Rekindling
by ActAppalled
Summary: After losing contacts with his best friends and true love for six years, Harry begins to feel desperate - until she is found and he is welcomed back. Now a secret hangs over the family that will cause tension for their love. M for language and future sex.
1. Forbidden? Love

**Author's Note: **It's been a while, I know, but I've had the chance to think things over in my mind, and have decided to make a Harry/Ginny story because, let's face it, they're perfect together! So this story occurs six years after the seventh book, and is my own take on how things really occurred (without the Epilogue at the end of _The Deathly Hollows_. So read, review, and enjoy! New chapters will be coming up at least two times a week, I promise.

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**Chapter One  
Forbidden? Love**

Harry clutched the fur-rimmed hood of his bomber jacket; the only gift he had ever received from the Dursley's the night he left 4 Privet Drive, and pushed his body weight against the strong winds that blew. The wind was unbearable to walk through, let alone the snow flakes that were slowly beginning to fall onto his glasses, making it almost impossible to see through them.

Aggravated, Harry tore off his glasses and wiped them clean before shoving them into his pocket, muttering a charm that allowed him to see temporarily without them. His calf-high woollen and suede boots trudged along the thick, marshy field he was walking through; his shortcut to the small British town that was newly named Bronxville. The only thing he could see were the dim lights that shone in the town about fifty metres ahead, and the flurries of white snow that proceeded to land on his nose. He hated winter. Normally, he would never go out in these conditions on a Friday night, and would much rather stay at home with his four-year-old Husky, Tonks – he decided to name her after his deceased friend, who had died no more than six years ago. Harry missed her and Lupin, who left the only trace of their existence behind within their son, Teddy, who was turning seven very soon. The past seemed so much longer than it was, and the future was the one thing that scared Harry the most.

After seventh year was completed at Hogwarts, Harry never lost all contact with the Weasley's and Granger's – it seemed that Ron had lost all interest in being friends with Harry for some reason, causing Hermione to lose contact as well (seeing as she was married to Ron now). If anything, the one person who Harry missed the most was Ginny Weasley, the girl whose heart he had broken many years ago and the one person who understood him the most.

Now, Harry had been forced to get out of the house rather than sink into a depth of misery by his new "best friend", Bryson Murlock. He had suggested a bar within the magical town of Bronxville called Matilda's Den, and promised to meet Harry there at seven o'clock. It was now seven thirty.

Finally, Harry's feet hit the cobblestone road of the town, where the bright oil lamps shone overhead and cast shadows among the people who were busily Christmas shopping three weeks beforehand. The town was made of antique and Victorian-looking homes and shops, which stood three to five stories tall and were brightly decorated in sparkling Christmas lights, enchanted windows to represent Christmas themes, and snow dusted footpaths. In the center of the town, Harry knew, stood a thirty-foot-tall evergreen Christmas tree, brightly decorated with glowing lights, enormous decorative glass balls, and topped with an enormous, real shooting star that a powerful wizard had captured for the tree specifically. The scene itself made Harry feel somewhat cheerier to be out of the house.

No more than ten feet away stood Matilda's Den. It was a decently-sized, three story building with rafters that stood ajar, despite the cold weather, and had a cluster of magicians standing outside of it, smoking pipes with warm Butterbeers in their hands. Harry made his way for the bar, ignoring the whispers and murmurs of his famous name as he slid inside, causing a blast of warm, inviting air to hit his face at his entrance.

The bar itself was extremely inviting, for family and friends. A long, twenty-foot-long bar top stood along the right side of the bar with approximately twenty stools lined along the side, a majority being occupied by witches and wizards. Behind the bar stood shelves of various Muggle alcoholic drinks and wizard drinks, including Firewhisky and Butterbeer. Clusters of round tables were scattered around the left side of the bar, as well as five large, plush, red couches which gathered at one corner near the enormous fireplace. At the back of the bar were the restrooms, a staircase leading to the second floor, and also a few shelves which held old-looking books, surrounded by more plush couches. A seven-foot-tall Christmas tree stood at the back corner, which was cheerfully decorated and surrounded with presents. The bar had been seasonally decorated with enchanted snowflakes hanging from the rafters, and stockings hung from the fireplace.

Harry smiled and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on a hook by the door while he made his way to the bar to order a drink. He had dressed warmly, wearing a long sleeved moss green V-neck sweater that exposed his well-worked and slightly tanned chest, and thick corduroy pants hugged at his muscular legs. His partially damp hair hung shaggily over his eyes and ears. He truly was the most breathtaking guy in the bar, and all witches seemed to take notice.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked, an attractive blonde witch with piercing purple eyes. She placed her hands on her slim hips, which were covered with a black apron.

"One Firewhisky is fine," Harry said, leaning against the bar and charming her with his smile. The bartender beamed and quickly grabbed him a bottle, cranking off the top before placing it into his hand. Harry made his way to sit by the fireplace to let his hair dry.

On one side of the bar, a witch caught his attention. Her back was to him, but her long, shiny red hair hung loose down her back, stopping almost to her waist, and she wore a form fitting blue sweater dress with dark grey tights and mid-calf-high black wool boots. She was cheerfully talking to another witch, who had long black hair tied into a low side ponytail, bright blue eyes, and was paler than a ghost.

Harry bit his bottom lip and stood up, making his way over to the two witches. Softly, he tapped her shoulder. "Excuse me, but do I know you?"

Excruciatingly slow, the redhead turned around to face him. Those large, blue eyes Harry had once been in love with met his emeralds, and a soft scatter of freckles over a petite nose turned to face him.

Ginny Weasley.

Taking a look from head to toe, Ginny beamed up at Harry with admiration and slowly lifted herself from the bar stool. "It can't be you!" she exclaimed, raising the back of her hand to brush the hair over his forehead away. His scar gleamed at her, causing Ginny to squeal with delight and wrap her long arms around his neck. "Harry!"

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry buried his face into her sweet-smelling red hair, holding her lower back with one hand. He had forgotten how elegant she smelt, how it felt to have her tiny body against his, to feel her arms around his neck – he missed her, he couldn't deny that.

"How are you? How's Hermione? And Ron? And your mother, your father? I miss you all, so much." Harry's words came out in one long, frantic sentence. This made Ginny giggle.

"Oh Harry, it's so different without you. It's so different when Ron and Hermione and you aren't talking. I hate it." Ginny sighed and lowered her arms to rest her hands on his wrists, looking up into his eyes. "Ron isn't the same person, really, and Hermione's a wreck when he acts up. He's just so angry almost all of the time. Deep down, I know he misses you. Hermione definitely misses you. I wish things were like Hogwarts again," she murmured.

Harry frowned and ducked under to face Ginny, moving a tear away from her fair cheek with his thumb. "I really miss everyone as well, Ginny. Especially you," he whispered. Ginny shivered.

The door to the bar flew open, causing Ginny to look up and Harry to turn around. A blast of cold air and snow flurries flew into the bar as a hooded figure stood in the doorway, one hand on the door frame, the other on the door knob. Slowly, the figure closed the door and removed his hood. Underneath was a handsome man in his mid-twenties with soft, brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes. He had a broad chin with a single cleft, and was tall – much taller than Harry, who was merely 6 ft 2 compared to this man, who was 6 ft 5 at least.

The man hung his coat beside Harry's and beamed when he saw Ginny, running over to embrace her in his arms – and kiss her full on the lips! It was only then, when Ginny was floating in circles within this man's arms, did Harry notice the sparkling 4ct diamond ring on Ginny's ring finger.

Somehow, Ginny managed to pry herself from Ethan's arms to smile up at Harry, her hand twined into the man's. "Harry! This is my fiancé, Ethan Thatcher. Ethan, this is my ex-b… uh, brother's old best friend from school – Harry Potter."

Harry's heart sunk – fiancé? Ginny was engaged?! She was only 22 years old, and had the innocence of an angel. Yet here she was, engaged to someone who would probably end up a complete bastard by the time they were married. He had no idea what to say, what to think. His mouth was dry and his hands were desperately trying to find something to punch.

"Harry Potter? Fascinating. Well, it's nice to meet you. Any friend of Ron's is a friend of mine," he said, with such cockiness that Harry began to clench his hands into fists at his sides.

"The pleasures all mine," Harry spat behind gritted teeth. Here he was, on his first night out in a year, and he had run into the one girl who had stolen his heart completely – and she was engaged to a complete prick. "If you'll excuse me for a second, I need to use the bathroom." He stood up quickly and sprinted towards the bathroom doors.

The bathroom was gritty and grimy, but that was the last thing on Harry's mind. Quickly, he strode over to the sink and poured hot water into it until it was full, then splashed his face with the steaming liquid. It drenched the tips of his bangs, and he glared up into the mirror. The moment he saw Ginny from across the room, a rekindled romance shot through his nerves, through his blood. He ached for her since the day he left her. He needed her more than ever.

Noticing how suspicious he looked, Harry pulled his wand out of his waistband and flicked it towards his reflection, casting a drying spell over his hair, and walked out of the bathroom. The first thing he saw when he walked out was Ginny's back against Ethan's chest, and his hands on her backside. To Harry's relief, she moved away when she saw him walk out of the bathroom.

"Harry, Ethan and I were just talking, and we'd love it if you came back to the Burrow with us this weekend. Mum would be so happy to see you! And I'm sure you and Ron could somehow make up for the past – whatever that past was, exactly. Oh, and you know how happy Hermione would be! You could stay for a few days, or possibly a week. I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind!" Ginny's bright blue eyes shone with hope, which made Harry's heart sink into a puddle underneath his body.

"Well, I'll have to check my work schedule. I mean, the office has been killing me to hand in some paperwork for quite some time now…" Harry began, but was interrupted by Ginny's bottom lip curling into a pout. He sighed. "But I'm sure I can work my way around it, somehow."

"Ooh, goodie Harry!" She lifted herself from Ethan's arms and wound her arms tightly around Harry's neck. "It'll be so much fun to have the whole family there again. I mean, the school family. You know… Oh never mind me, I'm rambling. I'm just so excited!" she cooed, giggling as she swung herself around Harry.

As Harry lifted his eyes from Ginny's swinging body with a smile, his eyes met Ethan's – who was glaring at him with some loathing hatred. There was no doubt that there was something evil about Ethan Thatcher, the man who Ginny had chosen to spend the rest of her life with. Suddenly, a light bulb went on in Harry's mind. Ginny didn't _have_ to marry Ethan. There must have been specific flaws about him that she didn't see. And it would be Harry would discover these flaws, drive their marriage apart, and claim what was rightfully his – Ginevra Molly Weasley.


	2. The Burrow

**Author's Note:** Quick chapter update, I know! But you're all happy, I bet. I only got one review for the last chapter, but eleven favourite author/story alerts. Please review, and let me know what you think! Your opinion really matters to me. Anyway, enjoy.

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**Chapter Two  
The Burrow**

That Saturday morning, at eight o'clock, Harry began packing his bags for a week stay with the Weasley family he had known since he was eleven, and who had nurtured him as if he were their seventh son. He brought only two suitcases with him, which he generously filled for the week stay – three pairs of jeans, two pairs of corduroys, two pairs of dress pants, four pyjama sets (he rarely wore pyjamas to bed, but thought it would be appropriate this time), a random selection of different shirts, a comb, shampoo, soap, a toothbrush, his wand, and his broomstick under his arm. Ginny had explained that she and George would pick her up at eight-thirty in their _newly_ enchanted car, a 1970 Chevy truck that George had bought because of its "ragged good looks."

Waiting for this time, Harry made sure his house was locked and brought Tonks out on her leash to wait with him, and also to wait for Bryson to come pick her up for the week. Harry rested his hand on his chin. Thinking back six years ago, he really couldn't recall what had begun the fight between him and Ron, and hopefully things would be back to normal. He imagined what they must have looked like now, how Hermione must have grown, and if they had any children. For years, Harry had wanted at least one child, but that would be a pipe dream for a while longer.

Tonks whimpered and nudged her head under Harry's chin to lick at his cheek, causing Harry to laugh. Sometimes, he sensed that Tonks herself was the _real_ Nymphadora. He eagerly scratched behind her ears as a shiny, black car pulled into the driveway – Bryson's car.

"Harry!" he greeted him, stepping out of the car. Bryson was the same height as Harry, with thick brown hair that was wavy down his scalp, and dark eyes. He was very thin, yet toned up enough so he didn't appear to be a stick. His hands were squashed into his leather jacket as Tonks bounded down from the steps to run towards him, barking happily. "Good girl! Get in the car, Tonks." He opened the passenger door and allowed the massive black and white Husky to perch herself in the seat, panting happily as she looked out of the window at Harry.

"Thanks for this, Bry," Harry said, hooking the suitcases up onto the spot where Tonks had sat and lifting himself off the step. "If you need anything, just send an owl to this address." Harry handed him a written note with the Burrow's address on it.

"No problems. Have a good time. Don't forget who your best bud is," Bryson said, holding up a thumb's up and smiling broadly.

"Now that you mention that, thanks for standing me up completely last night," Harry said with a smirk, crossing his arms. "Although I can't fully complain, considering where I'm going today."

Bryson laughed and clapped his hand onto Harry's back. "Sorry, but the wife needed me last minute. When you get back, I'll make it up to you." He laughed again and tilted his head towards the sky. "Speaking of getting back, here's your ride!"

Sure enough, as Harry followed where Bryson was looking, a faded red truck was skimming through the sky towards his house, and began to do a nose dive down into the ground. Quickly, Harry and Bryson jumped out of the way as the truck landed just beside Bryson's car, an inch away from scratching the shiny exterior that he had spent hundreds of dollars to keep shining.

"Harry!" Ginny leaped out of the passenger seat and ran up towards Harry, wearing dark jeans and a brown plaid jacket with a fur hood. Her arms found the circle of his neck, and Harry responded by taking a hold of her hips and swinging her in a full circle. Those three days without her had been agony enough – how bad was that?

"Harry, mate!" George climbed out of the driver seat and walked over behind Ginny, giving Harry a friendly hug. It was strange to know that there was only one twin left, with Fred passed on for more than six years now. An eerie feeling hung on George as he hugged Harry. Not only that, but he had changed. His once shaggy hair was cut shorter, and he had lost the majority of his freckles mysteriously. He had also grown an inch, at least, and was just slightly taller than Harry.

"It's great to see you, George. How have you been? How are things?" Harry pulled away from the hug and smiled to his old friend. All of the Weasleys were his friends.

"Fantastic – business is going well, you know. But less talk! We need to get home quickly; Mum's so excited to see you." George reached over to grab both of Harry's suitcases, tossing them into the back seat of the truck compartment. "We can catch up in the car. Don't worry; at least it's not Ron driving."

Harry had to laugh at this, as he turned to Bryson to shake his hand and thank him again for taking Tonks for the week. Then, he turned his back and climbed into the back seat of the truck compartment, while Ginny stole the front seat.

"Shotgun!" she exclaimed, climbing into the front and smirking at Harry in the rear-view mirror. He grinned.

Within a few seconds, George had managed to bring the car from the ground and back into the sky, soaring high enough into the clouds to avoid any contact with a Muggle's field of view. With George driving, Harry felt slightly more at ease and rested his head back against the seat.

"You know," George said after a minute of silence. "Ron's been extremely different without you the past few years, Harry. He talks to himself a lot, and has begun to shut Hermione out of his life more, not to mention little Rose."

"Who's Rose?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow curiously.

"Oh, right! Rose is Ron and Hermione's daughter. She's only two years old, but she's a fast learner. She read the entire first chapter of _Hogwarts: A History_ last night!" George laughed as his foot vigorously pushed on the gas. "You'll love her, Harry. She loves anyone with dark hair the most, for some reason."

Ginny turned in her seat to face Harry, causing his heart to flutter mysteriously in his chest. "Until things are cleared with Ron and you, Mum said you can sleep in their bed. She and Dad will be camping out in that tent we stayed in during fourth year. The big one, remember?" she said, smiling at Harry.

"I don't want to be a fuss." Harry suddenly felt guilty about going to the Burrow. He was causing a lot of trouble towards Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and what if he and Ron didn't end up being okay? And was he really doing the right thing by trying to force Ginny's marriage to end with Ethan?

"No fuss at all! You know how much Mum and Dad love you. They're both so happy to see you again; they would sleep in the bathtub if that's what it took!"

Harry grinned and sunk back into his seat, awaiting his arrival to the Burrow, his second home as of now, but his first home for as long as he'd been in school.

When noon rolled around, Harry awoke from a peaceful sleep lying in the back compartment to see the top of trees outside. The car was slowing down, and Ginny was chattering away to George.

"Don't crash into the chicken pen again, please? That's the last thing we need." George grunted a response to this and slowly eased the car to a stop, letting it softly fall like a feather onto the ground.

"Harry, wake up. We're here," Ginny said without turning, climbing out of the truck and moving the seat forward to let him out.

Harry lifted his legs from the seat and swung them around, grabbing his suitcases off of the floor and climbing out of the truck. The sight in front of him would have brought tears to his eyes, if he was that emotional. The teetering home stood before him, not having aged one bit, with snow dusted on the rafters and around the surprisingly clean dirt road. There was a single light on in the kitchen, and Harry could see shadows moving back and forth hurriedly.

"Mum!" George called out, resting his hands on his hips. The shadows in the window darted to the front door, and there stood Molly Weasley. The familiar, slightly round face greeted Harry with an enormous smile, followed by an ear-splitting squeal of delight. Her hair was still vibrant red, yet dusted with grey at the roots, and she wore a warm red jumper and long green skirt under a cover-all white apron, which was covered in splatters of various foods. Her hands were covered in flour, but that didn't stop her from grabbing Harry on the cheeks and kissing his face.

"Harry! It's so good to see you again, dear. Quick, come in. It's colder than Antarctica our here, and lunch is almost ready!" she exclaimed, grabbing Harry by the hand and dragging him into the house. George collected his luggage and broom, following them in with Ginny.

Inside the Burrow, a warm fire was lit and groups of people occupied the sofas surrounding it. A pale, blonde head caught his attention first, noticing Fleur Delacour's shimmering hair as she held a bright blonde-haired girl in her lap. He knew that was their eldest child, Victoire, seeing as she had been born during Harry's seventh year. Beside Fleur must have been her husband, Bill Weasley, who had his arm around his wife and on his lap, a boy with bright red hair curled into his shoulder.

Across from Bill and Fleur, Harry recognized the beautiful woman who had been one of his best friends for seven years. Her long, brown hair was tamed into thick, wavy locks as she rocked in a rocking chair, her big brown eyes gazing down lovingly at the girl that lie in her arms, a beautiful girl with already-long auburn hair trailing down her back.

Nobody seemed to notice Harry's entrance, until Mr. Weasley came from downstairs.

"Harry, m'boy!" Arthur Weasley's wide arms shot out on either side of him, an enormous smile creeping over his face as he slid down the stairs and embraced Harry with a clap on the back. "So good to see you again. I know we've all missed you greatly."

Hermione looked up wide-eyed from her sleeping child, slowly picking her up and handing her to Fleur, who let Victoire down to play with some toys. She then ran across the living room and tackled Harry with an enormous hug, sobbing into his chest.

"Harry! I can't believe it's actually you. All these years, it's been too long. I've missed you. I know Ron misses you. Harry, we need you here with us!" she broke away from him and looked up at him with her big brown eyes, mascara streaks down her face and her hands falling from his neck to his arms.

"Momma?" a timid voice called out, jumping off the top of the couch with ease and running to cling to Hermione's leg. Harry smiled down at the infant.

"Rose, this is Mr. Potter. He was me and your father's best friend during school." Hermione reached down to scoop the small girl into her arms. Harry noticed she had the long, wavy hair from a mixture of both her parents, as well as the colour – the red in her hair from Ron, the brown from Hermione. Her big brown eyes were bright as they stared up at Harry with a smile, and her lips curled into a smile aswell.

"Momma, he's got pretty hair," she said, reaching forward to gently stroke a lock of jet black hair. Harry laughed and asked to hold Rose, giving Hermione a friendly smile before the girl leaped into his arms. He twirled her in the air.

"Hermione?" a male voice called from the top of the stairs, causing both Harry and Hermione to turn towards them. There, at the top of the stairs, stood a familiar fair face, with freckles smothering his nose and light brown hairs staring down towards the scene; Harry holding his two-year-old daughter and his wife, her eyes glazed in tears from the sight. The man wore a thick, black jumper over a white collared shirt and blue jeans with dark brown runners. He slid down the steps and gazed at Harry, towering him by two inches.

"Harry." Ron said his voice dry and cracked.

"Hi, Ron," Harry gulped, slowly sliding Rose back into her mother's embrace.

The two old friends stood there, at the bottom of the steps, staring at one another. Nobody in the Burrow could speak as their eyes turned towards them. Ron's hair dusted the top of his eyes as he glanced from one emerald eye to the other, his bottom lip quivering slightly and his ends curling and uncurling into small fists. Harry's breathing shook with fear, unsure of what Ron's real reaction was to his arrival.

Ginny fluttered in from outside, unaware of the scene inside as she laughed and dusted the snowball from her hair that George had thrown, pausing near the two. She tilted her head and quieted George as he came in.

Time seem to stand still.

Then, out of nowhere, Ron bear-hugged Harry and began to sob. The tension that hovered in the room disappeared with a sigh of relief as Harry stood under Ron's embrace, glancing from Hermione to Ginny with fearful eyes, before he patted Ron's back and beckoned a "there-there".

"Harry, forget all of that bullshit from years ago – to be honest, I can't even recall why I was mad at you in the first place. But it no longer matters. All that matters is you are here, and you are going to be here for a week! It's the perfect opportunity to regain our friendship. I've missed you." Ron sniffled his nose and choked back another loud sob. "Oh god, have I missed you. At first, I thought I would be a shadow cast into the back of your mind with all your fame and your new career, but that just isn't you. I should have known that from the day we met at Platform 9 and ¾. I'm so sorry, Harry. Really, I am! And you have no idea what a mess I've been without your friendship. Six years of no Harry Potter – no wonder all of the girls cried when we left Hogwarts, they'd miss you!"

Ron's words came out in a muffled, choked-sob sentence, making it nearly impossible to understand what the hell he had just said, but Harry patted Ron's back and smiled. "It's good to have you back, Ron."

Ron beamed and ran back upstairs, coming back down with his arms full of letters. "I was going to send you so many apology notes, but I had no idea how to say it, or what to say. Anyway, here." He handed the notes to Harry, who had to duck under them to catch them all. "My apology is now yours, within fifty letters."

Harry laughed and glanced towards the living room, where another familiar face caught his eye – this time, he wasn't too happy to see it. The evil smirk of Ethan Thatcher glared back at him, his hands rested on the arms of Mr. Weasley's armchair, and his nails dug into the fabric. From that look, he knew there would be nothing good to come from Mr. Ethan Thatcher.


	3. One Night

**Author's Note:** Another update! Yes, I'm doing very well at updating this story. I should probably get to work updating my other stories as well. But, afterwards – I have a busy weekend planned and this will be, most likely, my last update until Monday. So, enjoy this while it's up! Christmas Countdown: 2 weeks, 6 days!

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**Chapter Three  
One Night**

By the time dinner had rolled around inside the Burrow, Harry had caught up on most of everyone's lives, and everyone had learned about his life as well. Hermione explained to Harry her new life with Ron, including her incredible career working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement within the Ministry of Magic, and gave birth to Rose shortly before her promotion to this department from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Rose was three years old now, and Hermione had enrolled her into Muggle ballet, a hobby Hermione's great-grandmother had admired. Ron was working full-time at George's shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but was attempting to become an Auror for the Ministry of Magic.

"We're thrilled to hear that _you_ are an Auror, Harry," Hermione said as she rushed to the counter to gather the enormous bowl of mashed potatoes that Mrs. Weasley had prepared. "I don't know why I've ever heard of you being an Auror around the office before. Well, then again, I'm sure everyone has better things to discuss than situations around the office, really. Ron's been meaning to do it for ages, but he can't bear to leave George behind."

Harry was setting down dishes at each seat while Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and Fleur were gathering the food in their arms to set in the centre of the table. "I can always help him, you know," he said, placing the last white ceramic plate down at the head of the table, Mr. Weasley's seat.

Hermione smiled in response and placed down the basket of warm crumpets. A howl of "Momma" came from the living room, causing Hermione to rush back into the room. As Hermione left, Ron sauntered in.

"Anything I can help with?" he asked, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning against the door frame.

"Oh, Ron, you daft thing, you've got something on your nose." Mrs. Weasley came rushing over with a napkin ready, dabbing it on her tongue and smudging the dirt off of his nose. Harry couldn't help but chuckle – it was as if they were all thirteen again.

Once the table was set, everyone gathered into the dining area and found their seats. Mr. Weasley (who kept insisting that Harry call his wife and he Molly and Arthur) sat at the head of the table, with his wife to the left and Ron to the right, and beamed at everyone as they all took their seats. Harry glanced towards the remainder of the seats, finding only one left – to his disappointment and delight, it was the seat next to Ginny. On the other side of Ginny was Ethan, who had his arm slung over the back of her chair. Harry took a sharp intake of breath as he slowly lowered himself into the seat.

"Dig in!" Arthur exclaimed, reaching over to stab at giant hunk of chicken with his fork. The clatter of dishes and utensils began as everyone gathered heaps of food onto their plates. Harry was gracious enough to help Ginny with the majority of her food, seeing as how she was normally intercepted by George and Ron who were always fighting for the most food. Ethan glared at every spoonful Harry gave her, which caused him to smirk slightly.

"So, isn't Charlie joining us?" Harry asked, glancing around the table and noticing that he was missing.

"Oh, Charlie couldn't come today – he had to tame a wild flock of Norwegian Ridgeback's that somehow got loose. He should be here by Wednesday, I believe." Molly slapped the hands of George and Ron with a wooden spoon, catching them diving for the last biscuit at the same time. "You leave that alone; see if someone else wants it." Everyone shook their heads.

"Has he married yet?" Harry questioned curiously, smirking as he watched the squabble between George and Ron for the last biscuit.

"No, but he's been dating a beautiful Dragon Keeper named Merlinda Berksnatch for quite some time now. She's a lovely girl. We haven't met her yet, mind you, but Charlie has sent us numerous pictures of the two of them in Romania, Egypt and Belgium," Molly explained, spooning a forkful of sweet corn into her mouth.

As the clock rolled around to eight-thirty and everyone was finishing up dessert, a delicious pumpkin and chocolate pastry that Molly had doubled in size to be as large as a hula-hoop, everyone began to clear the dishes away from the table and take turns monitoring the enchanted brushes that cleaned the dishes. Hermione and Fleur gathered Rose, Victoire and Louis into their arms to bring them upstairs to bed, noticing them begin to rub at their eyes with their tiny fists.

"They grow so fast, really," Ron murmured to Harry as they watched Hermione stroke Rose's auburn head on her shoulder, carrying her up to bed.

"Without a doubt," Harry answered, slinging his arm around Ron's shoulders. "Care for a game of Wizard Chess?"  
Ron grinned and raced Harry into the game room so they could play. Harry noticed that Molly had moved the clock, where all of the spoons with her children's faces showed where they were. He was saddened to see Fred's spoon was pointed at the bottom, where a tiny tombstone was placed, and noticed that Fleur, Victoire, Louis, Hermione and Ethan had been added. All were pointing home, with the exception of Charlie's, who was pointed at Romania. Harry frowned at the spoon of Ethan, which was cockily grinning and winking down at him as if he were his superior. Harry glared – Ethan was nobody's superior, and he never would be. He would make sure of that.

Six Butterbeers and three rounds of Harry losing to Ron at Wizard Chess later, it was nearing eleven o'clock. Molly and Arthur had descended upstairs to bed, blowing kisses to their grown children before blowing out the candles in the kitchen and inching up the steps. Fleur had passed out in Bill's lap, her long silvery hair cascading around her to form as sort of a blanket for her bare arms. Hermione was seated in Ron's lap, her eyes gazing up at the enormous Christmas tree in the corner, and Ginny was quietly snoozing between Ethan's legs on the floor as he perched in the overstuffed armchair. Harry and George were the only single ones.

"So, Harry, everyone seems all comfy cozy here," George chuckled, creeping closer to Harry and slinking his arms around his neck. "May I sleep on you?"

Everyone laughed sleepily as Harry shoved George off with a laugh. It felt so nice to be here, with the friends he adored and the family he admired, without the need of worrying about work or anything else in his life. He finally felt like he belonged.

"Well, I suppose I'll be heading up to bed." Hermione yawned and stretched her arms above her head, cracking her neck from side to side. She turned her head over her shoulder to kiss Ron on the lips. "I'll see you upstairs soon?"

"Of course, I'll be up in a bit." He returned the kiss and moved his arms to allow Hermione to slide off his lap.

"Goodnight, everyone. Harry, it's so good to have you back in our lives." She beamed down at him as her back turned to descend up the stairs. Harry smiled and nodded before she turned.

"I guess I should bring Fleur up, as well," Bill boomed in his loud voice, which he made into the softest whisper he could. With that, his arms scooped Fleur's petite figure up and he gently tiptoed upstairs. The sounds of his footsteps could be heard above.

"I suppose we should all be getting some sleep," Ginny said softly, lifting herself from between Ethan's legs. "Harry, Hermione and I would love to take you to Hogsmead tomorrow, if it's not too much trouble. I'm sure you haven't been in so long."

Harry flicked his eyes from Ginny to her lips and finally to Ethan, who had one eye open for which he used to glare down at Harry. It was almost as if he was begging him to say no. Harry grinned. "Sure, Ginny, I'd like that a lot. You're right, I haven't been in ages and it'll be great to catch up with the surroundings."

Ginny beamed happily and jumped up, grabbing Ethan's hand as she weaved her way through the couches. "Goodnight then, everyone, and be sure to be up by at least ten Harry, alright?" She smiled and fled upstairs, making sure Ethan was following her. Harry never let his eyes off the two of them.

"I know what you're thinking," Ron said, once Ginny and Ethan were out of hearing range. "Ethan's a complete scumbag, right?"

"Exactly what I was thinking." Harry perked up and crossed his legs on the sofa next to Ron, facing him. "I mean, every time Ginny looks at me or speaks to me, he gives me this death glare. And he just seems so, so…"

"Fake," Ron finished, resting his hands behind his head. "It's because he is."  
"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"I mean he is completely fake." Ron turned to face Harry, pulling one knee up against his chest. "The minute Ginny sent me an owl with the letter telling me how she had fallen in love with someone she met in Hogsmead, I had that brotherly instinct that there was something wrong with that guy. And once she introduced me to him, I absolutely hated the guy." Ron leaned forward and lowered his breath. "To leave this between you and me, I did a background check on him one day while visiting Hermione at work – and you won't believe what I found out." Ron glanced over the top of the couch to make sure everyone was upstairs in bed. "He's a murderer, Harry. Three years ago, do you remember reading in the Daily Prophet about those four Muggle couples who were found dead in their lofts, and an autopsy showed no signs of their death? It was him! He performed the _Avada Kadavara_ curse on all those couples in broad daylight, in their apartments, but was disguised in a cloak and mask so nobody could see him. And he hid his wand. There was only one witch who lived in the same building as those people who recalled seeing a flash of green light in their apartments from outside. He killed innocent Muggles, Harry, and my sister is going to marry him!"

Harry swallowed the dry lump in his throat. "Why haven't you told Ginny this?"  
"I can't just walk up to my sister and say, 'By the way, the guy you're marrying is a goddamn murdering bastard. Just thought you should know.' It doesn't work like that, Harry," Ron sighed.

"How were those documents even on him? I thought you said nobody saw who he was."

"Nobody did, but here's the other thing – his name's not really Ethan Thatcher. His name is Lorenzo Florence, and he's from New York City in the United States! He put on some fake British accent and changed everything about him. So all those files were marked under his real name, not Ethan."

Harry squinted in thought and glanced upstairs. "Look, we'll talk about this tomorrow, alright? You do need to confront Ginny at some point – she can't marry a guy like that. Just hold tight, and we'll discuss it tomorrow in Hogsmead or something."

"Right." Ron stood up and dusted off his pants, walking towards the fireplace to extinguish the flames. "Go up to bed, I have to find my briefcase of bills to organize for George."

Harry glanced at his best friend, and nodded. "Night, Ron."

"Night, Harry."

* * *

Groaning and rolling over, Harry checked the clock hanging on the guest room wall – it read three o' four. He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. For the past four hours, he could think of nothing but what Ron had told him about Ethan, and how the potential love of his life was going to marry this so called "Ethan". It made him feel sick for Ginny.

Letting the defeat of worry regain his subconscious, Harry rolled out of the plush, plaid-print bed and rubbed his fists into his eyes, yawning as he searched for his glasses on the bedside table. He was wearing only dark green flannel pyjama pants, which slipped off his waist as he stood up. Hurriedly, he tugged them up and retied the drawstring to secure them before slipping his wand into the side of the waistband. Then, as quietly as he could, he pushed open the door of the guest room and glanced up and down the hallways. Empty.

Softly, Harry tip-toed down the stairs into the kitchen where he opened the cupboards, looking for the kettle Molly had – perhaps some tea would help calm his nerves.

"Ron? George? Dad?" a soft voice called out from behind Harry. He turned around in the darkness and squinted to see who it was. A fair face looked back at him, with bright blue eyes peering out from behind the darkness. Of course it was Ginny.

"No, Ginny, it's Harry," he whispered, reaching for his wand in his waistband and murmuring a charm to light one of the nearby candles on fire. What he saw made him take an inward gasp.

There, merely six ten feet away from him, stood Ginny in the doorway of the kitchen. Her long, gleaming red hair shone in the light of the candle and waved softly around her face, arms and waist. Her eyes were still softly lined with a brown eyeliner, just enough to make it seem like she wore no make-up at all, and she was holding her upper arm with one hand, attempting to hide the nightgown she wore. It was made of a creamy silk that stopped at her mid-thigh, allowing her long legs, long arms and slim waist to be accented perfectly.

Harry couldn't stop gazing at her with lust in his eyes, followed by the love in his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he slowly lifted his eyes from her hips to her face.

"I was kind of hoping it was you," she murmured, stretching her long arms over her head. "I've been meaning to talk to you, ever since you came here."

Harry couldn't speak, just stared at the beautiful girl he had once held in his arms, had once kissed, had once admired. He nodded, as if he understood.

"Harry, I'll just be… completely honest with you." Ginny lowered her arms to hold her waist, gazing up at Harry timidly as she walked towards him. "I've… I've never stopped thinking about you since seventh year," she whispered, lifting her eyes more as she stood only two feet away from him now. "All those times I could have been yours, yours forever, you know that. I never wanted to let you go." Cautiously, she lifted her hand to graze over his cheek, her eyes never leaving his. "I never wanted to stop loving you, Harry Potter. And… And I never have."

Her face was inches away from his, and she was stood on tiptoe to get to his height. Harry had his arms locked on the counter behind him to steady himself, his breathing ragged as he could smell her warm, coconut hair and floral perfume. It took him every inch of his will power to just stand there like he did.

"Only three years ago did I meet Ethan, giving you three years to find me and make me yours – despite the feud between you and Ron at the time," she took another step forward, her breasts just touching his chest but her stomach still away from his. "To be honest, I had hoped that you would find me so I was going to decline the date Ethan offered, but then I thought, 'He had all that time to find me, so maybe I should move on.' And I did – sort of – but the truth is, every night I lie in bed with Ethan, I wish I was lying in bed with you."

Harry's mind groaned with thoughts of grabbing Ginny and kissing her soft, full lips like he had so many times in school, but he remained in the corner of the countertop, his eyes closed as he continued to listen and continued to breathe in her luxurious scents.

"So when you walked into that little bar within Bronxville, you can imagine how excited and disappointed I was to see you. Excited, because I had missed your gorgeous face for so long. Disappointed, because I was newly engaged." Ginny held up the glittering diamond ring on her finger, then slipped it off and held it between her finger and thumb. "Technically, when I take this off, I am single again – through the eyes of some, they would say this. So, technically, when I take this off, you could kiss me, Harry Potter."

Harry's hands had somehow found their way to Ginny's hips, and he eagerly began to pull her close to him when the sound of feet came from the staircase. He removed his hands from her waist as soon as Ginny took five steps back, slipped her ring back on, and began to rummage through the cupboards as if everything was normal.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" "Ethan's" gruff voice called from the staircase.

"I just came to look for some warm milk, but Mum's ran out," she murmured, blowing out the candle and shooting a hostile look at Harry to order him to hide somewhere. Quickly, he found a narrow nook between the cupboards and the front door, where he ducked under.

"Come back to bed, hun," he said. Ginny closed the cupboard softly and glided up the stairs as Harry was left to watch. And, as he watched, he noticed Ethan's eyes linger for just a moment on the nook, saw his forehead narrow slightly, and then follow Ginny back up to their room.


	4. Hogsmead with Lust

**Author's Note:** Early update? I believe so. I figured, I have a boring Saturday night so what else is there to do other than write the next chapter? Here you go!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Hogsmead with Lust**

The next morning, at exactly ten o'clock, Ron came into Harry's guest room to make sure he was up and ready for breakfast. Hurriedly, Harry had thrown off his pyjama bottoms and changed into a pair of dark jeans, a T-shirt, and a snug, warm dim gray knit V-neck sweater. He attempted to comb the mop of hair on his head, and shoved his feet into his boots, stomping down the stairs in them as he yawned widely. His encounter with Ginny last night had not only been on his mind for the past six hours, but he had not gone to bed since.

Molly greeted Harry with a kiss on each cheek and placed her hand on his back to guide him towards the table, seating him down beside Ron and George. The two were shovelling forks of scrambled eggs into their mouth as Molly placed a plate full of eggs, toast, bacon and fresh fruit in front of him.

"Juice, Harry?" she asked, turning to quickly fetch him glass anyway.

"Sure, thanks." Harry thanked Molly for the breakfast before digging in, eager to get food into his system to attempt to calm his nerves about encountering Ginny today.

Almost as if on cue, Ginny floated down the stairs in a crisp white knit sweater, black jeans, and thick suede boots. Her hair was waved in bouncy loose curls, which hung down her back and shoulders. She beamed at everyone.

"Good morning! Breakfast smells terrific, Mum." Ginny rushed over to the kitchen to kiss her mother on the cheek before piling her own food on. Molly seemed relieved.

"Yof seem happefy," Ron mumbled in somewhat-English towards his sister, swallowing a large lump of scrambled eggs. "Where's Ethan?"

"Oh, he said he had to finish some Christmas shopping. He should be back by dinner, at least." Ginny didn't seem to be bothered by her husband's absence as she turned her head towards Harry. "Hermione and I are so excited to take you out to Hogsmead today. We know you can finish any Christmas shopping that you need to while you're there," she said.

Harry nodded, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared down at his food, avoiding eye contact with Ginny. Last night, he had the most incredible urge to kiss Ginny and keep her in his arms forever. He didn't know if he would be able to handle a whole day with her, and only her if Hermione allowed it, without attempting to do anything.

"Well, we'll be leaving in ten minutes – by Floo Powder, of course. George's shop is in Hogsmead and has a Floo Network fireplace, so we'll end up there. George, shouldn't you be heading to work now, anyway?" Ginny said in a rushed sentence, wolfing down her food.

George checked the clock on the wall, widened his eyes, and dumped the rest of his food into his mouth, chewing hungrily before he grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and rushed towards the fireplace near the kitchen. Harry leaned forward in his seat to watch George, who grabbed a handful of the glittering powder, swallowed his food, and then said as clear as possible, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," before he vanished in the fire.

"You'd better hurry up, Harry. Hermione's just about to come down now," Ginny said.

Sure enough, Hermione descended downstairs in a long-sleeved brown shirt and white jeans tucked into black boots, her hair pinned up with a giggling Rose in her arms. Rose was still in her pyjamas, with her hair tied into symmetrical pigtails.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said softly, placing Rose into her highchair next to Ron and kissing his cheek. "Are you all set for our shopping day?"

"I guess so." Harry finished off his eggs and pushed the plate away, standing up and grabbing his coat off the hooks behind him. He patted his waistband to make sure his wand and sac full of coins was in place before slipping on his bomber jacket.

"Good." Hermione slipped her coat over her arm along with her purse and kissed the top of Rose's head, who was squishing porridge between her fingers and laughing as a large gob she had thrown landed on dad's nose. Hermione then kissed Ron on the lips with a laugh and bent up to lick the porridge off, beaming down at them. "Love you both. If there are any problems, Ron…"

"I can take care of it," Ron interrupted, standing up to kiss Hermione once more. "You have a good day, and take care of Harry there." He winked.

Ginny guided the two over to the fireplace, where she took the bowl off the mantle and handed it out to let Harry and Hermione grab their handfuls. Ginny tossed hers in first, making sure the flames turned green before stepping in. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and called out, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes." With a roar of flames, she disappeared.

Hermione threw hers in next, stepping into the emerald blaze and smiling at Harry. "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," she said. She, too, disappeared.

Harry took a deep breath and glanced back at Ron, who had cleaned up Rose and brought her into the room on his shoulders. He was smirking at Harry, and nodded. Harry turned around again, gazed into the fire, and threw in the powder. The flames lifted and turned emerald. He slowly closed his eyes and stepped into the fire, the flames not burning his clothing at all. He opened his eyes, gazing out at Ron and Rose through the green flames, and said as clearly as he could, "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

The familiar feeling of falling down a tunnel took him over as he slid on his back through the long Floo Networks, his eyes shut tight the entire time. He slid through a long spiral of tunnels and opened his eyes to see a faint fireplace in the distance, its flames bright red and crackling an evil laugh, almost. Harry held his breath and clasped onto his stomach with his hands as he slid into the flames, warmth just grazing his skin as he landed on his back in the middle of a familiar yet unfamiliar room. Harry groaned and stood up, wiping the soot from his eyes.

"Graceful entrance," he heard George remark, and as his eyes focused, he saw George smiling at him from behind a tall glass counter. Hermione and Ginny stood on either side of him, laughing softly.

Harry gazed around. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes seemed familiar to the one he had visited in Diagon Alley, but was much larger in Hogsmead. The shop was stacked to the ceiling with boxes of every product they owned, including Skiving Snackboxes, Extendable Ears and Fever Fudge. Harry noticed a curtained doorway at the back of the shop, where a sign that read "DatDA Products" was hung above it. He glanced around and looked back at the three behind the counter.

"Lovely, ain't it?" George rested his magenta-robed elbows on the counter and gazed misty-eyed around the shop. "Much bigger than Diagon Alley. More business here, as well."

"It's lovely, George, but we've ought to be going. I promise you, we will come back in about two hours for some tea," Ginny said, hitching her purse up over her shoulder and tugging up the zipper to her plaid coat, anticipating the wind and snow that would await her when she pushed open the front door.

"Have a good day, George," Hermione said as she followed suit with Ginny. Harry nodded at George with a smile and followed the girls, pressing the glass door open with a jingle of the bell that hung above.

A blast of cold, flurried wind blew Harry back onto his feet a little, catching his balance as he stood in front of the girls. The sight of Hogsmead was almost too much to take in, being the one place Harry had loved to visit during school. In the distance, he could see the sign for Honeydukes Sweetshop, swaying in the wind as clusters of students clad in Hogwarts robes gathered around the windows or entered the shop. Beside it was Gladrags Wizardwear, where more clusters of students were pointing and giggling at the products on display. Closer to Harry was The Three Broomsticks, the pub where a majority of residents and students gathered to enjoy the Butterbeer or the view of the beautiful owner, Madam Rosmerta, who Ron had fancied for a while way back. Zonko's Joke Shop should have been where the three stood but, obviously, George had bought the shop and shaped it into _his_ joke shop.

"Well, where do we start?" Hermione said, beaming at the friends. Harry slid his arms around her and Ginny, who huddled closer to him from the cold.

"Perhaps we should start off at Honeydukes – I'd like to get everyone some sweets for Christmas, for some starter gifts," Harry said, wiping his glasses with the back of his hand.

"Good idea. You two go ahead. I have to go to the bookshop and get some things for Rose." Hermione tugged her purse up and sauntered off, trudging through the deep cobblestone-covered snow.

Harry glanced down at Ginny with soft eyes, his arm still tightly locked around her hips. "Are you planning to leave me as well, Ms. Ginevra?" he said jokingly.

Ginny smiled and nuzzled her head closer into his shoulder. "Never," she cooed.

* * *

As the day went on, Harry found himself getting more attached to Ginny – meaning he fell much more in love with her. They had spent two hours together, alone, in The Three Broomsticks talking about every event that had occurred over the span of the six years they didn't speak. Harry told Ginny about Tonks, and how he had made Bryson his new best friend while Ginny told Harry about how she had just bought her first house last weekend. From what Ginny had told him, Harry learned that she lived in a 3-bedroom flat with Ethan near Westminster Abbey in London.

"It's enormous, I'll have to show you some time." Ginny took a long sip of her Butterbeer before checking the clock that hung behind the bar. "We should really go find Hermione, though. It's been nearly two hours now," she explained, frowning at her own words.

Harry nodded and set his Butterbeer down, leaving a few coins on the table as he slid on his coat. The two left the bar with a wave to Madam Rosmerta and back into the freezing cold that was Hogsmead.

"Hermione!" Ginny said, turning on her heel to see an exhausted-looking Hermione with armfuls of bags and books. Harry rushed forward to gather most of Hermione's things into his arms.

"I'm so glad I found you two, at last," Hermione said as she smiled at Harry's generosity. "I was just going to head back to see George and ask if he could shove these behind the counter."

"We'll come with you, and then we can all continue shopping together," Ginny suggested, glancing up at Harry. He nodded and turned his eyes away. Ginny had been acting as if nothing had happened between them last night, and it confused him. Had she been sleepwalking or something here? Or was she unaware of what she had said?

"Excellent." Hermione tugged her scarf closer around her face as she turned around to head towards George's shop, leaving Harry and Ginny to follow behind slowly.

"Can I talk to you later, Ginny?" Harry asked, flicking his eyes towards her face questioningly.

"Okay." Ginny kept her eyes down at the cobblestone road the entire time, holding only a few of Hermione's bags and making it seem like they were too heavy in order to distract herself. Harry frowned.

Once Hermione had dropped all her bags off in the shop, the three made their way to Honeydukes for sweets to buy for Christmas. Harry managed to grab an amazing deal on boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Peppermint Cream Toads, Liquorice Wands, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, and Cauldron Cakes. He also managed to sweet-talk his way to the elderly employee into giving him a few free Sugar-spun Quills, a new favourite of his. Harry explained to the two that these were part of the gifts he was planning on buying everyone for Christmas.

Considering Harry still had a wealthy amount of money left over from his parents, he managed to finish his Christmas shopping entirely within those six hours in Hogsmead. He bought everyone gifts, even Ethan; the newest broomstick – a Nimbus 5000 – and a box of Bertie Bott's for Ron; a collector's edition of _Extremity Spells and How to Perform Them_ and two Sugar-spun Quills for Hermione; a matching set of purple velvet robes for Arthur and Molly, along with some sweets; a Remembrall for Rose; the _Book of Joke Businesses: How to Maintain Your Ha-Ha's_ for George; a set of dress robes for Ethan; a pearl choker for Fleur; a Wizard Chess Deluxe Edition for Bill; a miniature dragon figurine that turned realistic for Charlie; a few wizard toys for Louis and Victoire; and a beautiful black gown with white silk embroidery with a black velvet headband for Ginny.

"Well, it looks like it's time to go home," Hermione said, who had bought out everything possible within the day.

"I'm exhausted." Ginny shoved open the door to George's shop with her knee, since her arms with full of her own purchases, and knocked over George, who had been flipping the open sign to closed.

"Oh, George, I'm so sorry!" she gasped as she bent down to help her brother up. He laughed and dusted himself off.

"Not a problem." George locked the door and set a locking charm on it as he slipped off his employee robes and hung them on a hook behind the counter.

The four of them gathered all the purchases made and took turns jumping into the fireplace and sending themselves back to the Burrow via the Floo Network. Once Harry, the last once again, was safely standing within the ashes of the fireplace, dinner was set on the table.

After dinner and a friendly chat about their day, Harry and Ginny asked to be excused privately for a moment, considering Harry had asked Ginny to speak before. Ginny helped her mother clear the table before she and Harry made their way up into the attic, the only safe place to talk without the listening ears.

"Do you think you could set a sound-proof charm on the door and walls? I don't want Ethan to listen in," Ginny said, sitting cross-legged on a musty mattress that was lying on the floor by the window. Harry nodded and muttered a spell under his breath, causing a thick, soft shield to flow around the door and walls.

Harry rested himself on the mattress facing Ginny, his eyes gazing at hers as he tried to find the right words to say. "Yesterday night… when you met me in the kitchen, I felt that there was certain… chemistry between us. I'm not sure if it was just me, but I could have sworn we were going to kiss if Ethan hadn't come down." Harry paused to take in Ginny's reaction, who had her bottom lip tucked into her mouth and was chewing on it nervously. "Well, Ginny, I haven't stopped thinking about you since seventh year. It has been too long, and I really miss you – I really miss us, actually."

Ginny glanced out the window in the attic, the soft breeze causing her hair to gently wave in the wind. She hugged her arms and looked down at her feet. "I was trying to forget that night, Harry. It was a mistake. I'm with Ethan now, Harry, and I have to remain faithful to him." She smiled over whatever she was thinking and looked up into Harry's eyes. "He's an amazing man, Harry. I love him."

"Ginny." Harry caught hold of her hands and held them in his, bringing them to his chin as he tilted his head to graze his lips over her knuckles. "I love you. I've loved you much longer than Ethan has loved you." He wanted, so desperately, to tell her how Ethan was a fraud, a fake – but he had decided the best way for her to find out was by herself, for her own eyes. How? He wasn't sure yet, but he knew that Ron would be able to think of something.

Ginny pulled her hands away and frowned. "It's different, Harry. Things have changed. This isn't Hogwarts anymore, this is our adult lives," she whispered, even though there was no need for whispering.

Harry's stomach turned angrily, as he leaned forward just on his hands to speak softer to Ginny. "Listen to me," he sighed, his lips nearly touching hers. "When you were in my view, it was never Hogwarts. It was our future, together, and that was all I could see." He took her hands and held them again, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Never were you absent in my future, in my mind. I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley." And, without thinking anymore, without a care as to what would happen, he kissed her.

Fireworks would have gone off above their heads, had this been a Muggle movie. This kiss wasn't just a peck, or something that you hear about in fairytales. This was love, true love, in the form of a romantic touch of the lips. The moment their lips touched, everything disappeared in the room, and nobody was important to them except the other. Ginny's fingers automatically twined into the back of Harry's thick, jet black hair, and his hands shot directly to her waist, pulling her to him. Their lips formed into one another's; just parting enough to have their tongues softly touch. And as Harry's hand slid up her back, shivers ran through her body that made her clutch onto him by the back of the neck. The passion was overwhelming, and they couldn't let go.

Without thinking once more, Harry pulled Ginny over into his lap delicately, his lips never leaving hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck loosely and pressed her body to his, her eyes closed and soft sighs escaping her lips. He could have almost pulled her over him and lay back, but he didn't want to ruin this already perfect moment.

Almost as soon as it had happened, it stopped. Harry somehow managed to pry his lips free from hers, and found that she was still eager for the kiss when his eyes opened to see her lips still parted slightly. Her eyes opened dreamily as she stared up at him.

"I love you, Ginny Weasley," he muttered softly, his arms holding her tightly against him.

"I love you, too, Harry Potter," she sighed into his chest.

And the two remained this way for an hour, embraced in the others arms, until a fist softly tapped on the door.


	5. Christmas at the Burrow

**Author's Note: **8 months later or so, and here is the next update! I'm so sorry I didn't update sooner, but with school and everything, my life has been extremely hectic. And I'm aggravated that I had the entire fifth chapter ready to post a while ago but my computer crashed. Without further ado, here you go you die hard fans. I love the inputs, so make sure to review! I read every single way and try my best to interrupt ideas into other chapters. Enjoy the fifth chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Five  
****Christmas at the Burrow**

"Ginny, sweetheart, are you in there?" Ethan's voice called out on the other side of the door to the attic.

Ginny untangled herself from Harry's arms and stood up, fixing her hair as she stared at her reflection in a cracked mirror leaning against a dusty dresser. Harry stood up behind her, frowning at her reflection.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed at his reflection, frowning and lifting her wand to remove the sound-proofing charm he had set on the room. She turned to face him, her hands on his chest as she stared up into his eyes with a frown. Harry reached down to brush a strand of hair away from her face and touch their lips for just a moment. Ginny pulled away, turned to the attic door, and swung it open.

"I'm sorry, hun. Harry and I were just talking about Christmas gifts, and you know I would hate to ruin the gifts for everyone," she said, swinging her arms around Ethan's neck.

Ethan smiled down at Ginny. "I understand, dear. I was just making sure everything was alright." He bent down to pull Ginny into a hug, his eyes glaring up at Harry over her shoulder. Harry swallowed and tried to look like nothing had happened between them, his wand sticking out of the waistband of his pants.

"Are we going to wrap our gifts tonight?" Ginny was asking Ethan as the two left the attic, leaving Harry to stand in there by himself for a moment. He let out a long sigh and shoved his hands angrily through his thick hair. He could still taste Ginny on his lips and could almost feel her tiny body pressed up against him.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, slouching and walking out of the attic as he slammed the door behind him. No matter what it meant to him, he would somehow find a way to reveal Ethan's secret to Ginny, with the help of his right-hand man; Ron.

After a night consisted of wrapping gifts with Ginny, Ethan, Hermione and Ron, Harry woke up the next morning feeling particularly rejuvenated for some reason. He woke up at eight in the morning the next day – Christmas Eve – and was pleased to see the snow falling softly onto the windowsill of Molly and Arthur's bedroom. In the backyard, he could see the minimal-looking tent, which was extremely large on the inside, and felt little guilt knowing they were completely comfortable in their heated environment.

After throwing on dress pants and a warm green sweater spun out of unicorn hair, Harry made his way downstairs to see if anyone was awake. To his surprise, the living room, kitchen, dining room and game room appeared to be completely empty; everyone was still fast asleep upstairs and outside.

Shrugging, Harry decided to take a ride on his Firebolt outside. Although his own had been destroyed six years ago, he had fell in love with the model and, despite the continuous rebuilding of much faster models, he bought it three years ago to continue to own.

With the thought fresh in his mind, Harry crept back upstairs and retrieved the Firebolt from where it was rested against the wall by his bed. He also grabbed the pair of dragon hide gloves Bryson had given him for Christmas last year, slipped his feet into the dragon hide boots he had packed, and even an extra sweater for more warmth. Downstairs, he pulled on his bomber jacket, wrapped a scarf right around his face, enchanted his glasses to not blur against the snowfall, and walked outside.

The day was particularly cold, snowy, and windy. Harry closed the door hurriedly as he walked down the enchanted pathway that allowed no snow to touch it, leaving it dry and clear. He mounted the Firebolt as he came up to the circular clearing where the truck was parked, and kicked off the ground, lifting himself high into the snowy sky.

The feeling of being on his broomstick made Harry perk up even more. The wind lashed at his face, but the scarf he wore kept him relatively warm as he sped higher and higher into the sky, lifting himself into the thick clouds. The Burrow lay beneath him, and he hovered in the air for a moment, enjoying the warmth of his jacket and sweaters along with the cool droplets of snow falling on his uncovered skin. It was the best of both worlds, and he wished he could hover up there for ages. In the sky, Harry felt unstoppable.

With a sudden jerk, Harry sped nosedive towards the ground again and pulled his broomstick up as he almost hit the ground, hovering just over the snow-covered grass as he zipped around the Burrow's property. Lifting his head, he saw Hermione and Ron standing in the open doorway of the Burrow watching him, Hermione holding a groggy Rose in her arms.

"It's always been entertaining to watch you fly," Ron said as Harry slowly flew over towards them.

Harry tugged down the scarf to uncover his mouth. "I feel so much better on my broomstick, no matter the mood," he answered.

Hermione smiled and walked back into the Burrow, Ron following her closely. When the door closed, Harry sped off again, picking up speed as he zigzagged between trees, the truck, and Molly and Arthur's tent. The wind whipped through his hair, burned his ears, and made his nose turn rosy almost immediately. There was nothing that could ruin his moment on the Firebolt right now.

Two hours more of flying through the Burrow's property, Harry sped back towards the ground and stopped at a soft hover, climbing off the broomstick and tucking it under his arm. As he pushed open the Burrow and walked in – followed by a light flurry of snow and wind – he yanked off his gloves, boots, coat, scarf, and extra sweater, feeling much warmer in the new environment.

Hermione and Molly were waving their wands at the stove and sink, preparing a brunch of poached eggs, toast, marmalade, fruit, custard, bacon and sausage. Ron was bouncing Rose on his lap in the living room by the roaring fire and sparkling Christmas tree. Bill and Fleur were sitting in front of the fire with Louis and Victoire playing together with a collection of wizard toys. Arthur was sitting at the kitchen table reading the _Daily Prophet_, where a moving and gleaming picture of Gilderoy Lockhart beamed back at him.

Shocked, Harry read the article above his picture; _LOCKHART RELEASED FROM ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL AFTER 11 YEARS._ He almost laughed out loud, but refrained from it. Obviously, the picture of Lockhart underneath the article had been an old one, since it showed a familiar scene of the young Lockhart gleaming a smile and posing for camera flashes.

"May I read that after you?" Harry asked curiously.

"Of course, Harry," Arthur said, beaming up at him from behind his glasses. "Can't believe the Lockhart article either? I was shocked when I saw, but I'm sure Molly and Hermione will be thrilled." Molly wasn't listening to their conversation, but muttering more charms to allow the pan to move the bacon onto a plate.

Ginny came stumbling down the stairs with Ethan trailing behind her, a smirk plastered on both of their faces. Harry's heart fell as he noticed the frizz that made a halo around Ginny's hair, and the cheesy grin that covered Ethan's face as he sat down across from Arthur, staring directly at Harry.

"Good morning!" Ginny squeaked happily, spinning in a circle so the bright red dress she wore spun with her. "Happy Christmas Eve!"  
"What's with the overly cheery attitude?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry quickly.

"Oh, no reason," Ginny said with a smile. "I just love Christmas, don't you?" She directed the question to Harry, who was barely paying attention.

"Oh, er – right. I love Christmas," he sputtered, pretending he was busy lining his fork and knife up so they were perfectly parallel from one another.

"Here you are, Harry," Arthur said as he pushed the _Daily Prophet_ towards him.

"Thanks." Harry folded the newspaper over to the front page, skimming through it quickly before he brought it through to the living room for Ron and Hermione to read as well. The three friends sat hovered over the newspaper, reading the front-page article of Lockhart:

_On the morning of December 21__st__, Gilderoy Lockhart – well known for his series of books involving the many encounters he has had with dark creatures of the wizarding world, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award – was released from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries._

_Lockhart was expected to be a permanent resident of St. Mungo's, since he was known to have a slow and steady recover during the restoration of his memory, which Lockhart lost during his first and only year teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as the Defence Against the Arts teacher. However, Lockhart's Healer – whose name has been hidden for professional reasons – explains that by the end of last month he had fully remembered everything up to his years teaching at Hogwarts. This allowed Lockhart to be monitored less closely, and he was finally released at eleven in the morning as of December 21__st__._

_The Daily Prophet were the first ones to make it to the home of Lockhart, where he lives in a lovely flat on the same street as the Leaky Cauldron in London, and ask him on his recovery and life after today._

"_Well, of course, it was a heart-wrenching experience for me, I'm sure," a teary-eyed Lockhart exclaimed as he batted at his eyes with a pale blue silk handkerchief with his initials on it. "But the minute I remembered my wonderful battle within the Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts, I felt that I was myself all over again. I'm sure the battle went very well, for it is the very only thing I do not remember currently."_

_Lockhart seemed to be extremely healthy and maintaining his dazzling good looks, since during the interview he wore royal blue robes with gold buttons and had his infamous golden blonde locks tumbling neatly down the nape of his neck. The Daily Prophet then continued on to ask about what the future held for the award-winning author._

"_With the popularity of my books, I felt it was necessary to write one dealing with my struggles with the restoration of my memory. Therefore, I am happy to announce that on Christmas Eve exactly at midnight, my tenth book will be released. It is called '_Chamber of My Secrets: Struggles and Hardships of Regaining One's Memory'_. I will personally be signing the first one hundred copies this evening, and they shall be up for sale in Flourish and Blotts for a very small fee of five Galleons, twelve Sickles and three Knuts!"_

_Lockhart has also decided to continue writing stories as he leaves for his two-week long trip to Romania this weekend. He let tDP in on the title of his upcoming eleventh book; Duelling with Dragons. The book is said to include his two-week long journey in Romania assisting dragon trainers, written in the form of a diary. The book will be up for sale within the next two months._

Ron snorted out loud as he finished reading last, tossing the newspaper aside. "What an idiot. It's amazing that almost everyone who attended Hogwarts is fully aware that he published the false accusations, yet he continues to write books!" Ron stood up to pick up Rose again and cradle her in his arms. "I should write to Charlie and tell him to snoop around to see if so-called Lockhart shows up."

"I can't believe that he believes he defeated the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione said, crossing her legs as she lowered herself to sit beside Harry. "I think we should go see him."

"Are you crazy, Hermione?" Ron snapped, running his hand over Rose's hair. "Why is it that you are almost always the one who decides to do the craziest things? You and Harry! First, it was 'Oh, we've got to stop Snape from stealing the stone.' Then it was, 'Let's make a Polyjuice Potion, disguise ourselves as Crabbe and Goyle, follow the spiders to an even bigger spider, and while we're at it, we'll go talk to Moaning Myrtle and find the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets and GO IN.' Ron took a deep breath and glanced from Harry to Hermione, his face red. Rose's eyes were bulging out of her head.

"Ron," Hermione said coolly, picking Rose up into her arms. "We have to confront him, otherwise the rest of the world will really find out what a fake and a fraud he is."

Ron mumbled something about needing to go to the bathroom and got up, retreating from the living room. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, frowning.

"You think it's a good idea, don't you Harry?" she asked worriedly.

"Well yeah." Harry fidgeted with the ends of his sweater. "Ron just over exaggerated. It won't be nearly as risky as the past things we've done."

"Of course not!" Hermione leapt up with Rose still in her arms, who was twirling the ends of Hermione's hands around as if they were toys. "We'll talk to him later. Perhaps we should go the day after tomorrow, since it would be rude to visit him either today or tomorrow."

Harry nodded in agreement and watched Hermione as she put Rose into her high chair and prepared her some food. Silently, Harry leaned his back against the bottom of the chair near the fire, watching the sparks crackle in an almost magical way. The flames flickered off his glasses as his mind raced with thoughts, no longer on Lockhart or the past years at Hogwarts; his thoughts now centered specifically on Ginny and Ethan.

Almost as if she knew what he was thinking, Ginny edged her way around Rose's high chair to come into the living room, Ethan tightly clamped on her hand behind her. She beamed at Harry and crawled onto the couch across from him, Ethan following as he slid behind her. Ginny leaned back against Ethan and opened the book she was reading, her hair flowing in silky waves down her shoulders and front. Harry immediately turned his attention back to the fire, the ache building in his heart.

"Post is here," Molly exclaimed from the kitchen. Harry turned his head to see Errol, who was surprisingly still alive, and Harry's own owl, Hedwig; of course, the first Hedwig had died six years ago, but he had purchased another snowy owl and named it Hedwig in her memory. Hedwig had a brightly wrapped parcel under her feet, with a note clamped in her beak.

Harry got up and stroked Hedwig's head as he proceeded to untie the little string that was attached to her feet, releasing the parcel from her grip and taking the note with her. He grabbed a piece of bread that was sitting on the counter and broke off bits to feed her as he looked over the envelope. It had a familiar blue scrawl over the front that read:

_Mr. H Potter_

_The Burrow, Wherever the Hell That Is_

_Happy Christmas_

Harry laughed as he read Bryson's letter, turning it over to pry the wax seal open. He pulled out a regular Muggle Christmas card with a snowman smiling at him on the front, opening it to read its contents. A picture fell out. Harry looked over it and smiled as he saw Bryson waving back at him, wearing a ridiculous Christmas sweater, with his arm around Tonks, who was wagging her tail and panting happily. Harry set the picture aside and read over the card:

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Christmas! This probably came early, since I know how well Hedwig is at delivering mail, no matter the weather circumstances. Tonks misses you, she howls at night a bit before I go to bed. But I know that you'll be back in three more days, and she'll be good as new once you're back._

_Not much going on back here in London. I'm sure you read already about Lockhart. The guy's a fraud, I know it. I'm sure you can agree with me there. What a ridiculous load of bull he gave to the Prophet._

_Here's a gift from me. If you did get this post early, don't open it until Christmas you daft thing. Otherwise, go nuts. Have a good time at the Burrow Harry._

_Sincerely,_

_Bryson Murlock… and Tonks_

Harry grinned and slipped the parcel under his arm along with the card, going back towards the living room as he slid both the present under the Christmas tree along with the other gifts, ignoring Ginny and Ethan's affectionate kisses as he retreated back into the kitchen. He took the time to purchase Bryson a wizard Christmas card when they had visited Hogsmead, and he went back into the living room to find his gift with the card. Once he found it under the tree, he carefully tied both back to Hedwig's leg, deposited two galleons into the little sack tied to her other foot, and opened the kitchen window to let her fly back out.

"What's on the agenda for today anyway, Mum?" George said as he came into the kitchen, cracking his knuckles.

"Well," Molly said, stirring a big pot of what looked like potatoes. "As usual, we're just going to relax and enjoy one another's company." She beamed at George and waved her wand to let the spoon stir itself as she took a seat next to Arthur.

Christmas Eve flew by easily. After laying in front of the fireplace and playing with Rose a bit, Harry joined the family for an enormous dinner of potatoes, chicken, ham, green beans, corn, stuffing, fresh dinner rolls, and bread pudding for dessert. After dinner, everyone enjoyed a cup of hot cocoa and sat around talking about their lives away from the Burrow. Then, as the enormous grandfather clock in the Weasley kitchen struck midnight, everyone retreated upstairs to bed.

* * *

The next morning at nine, Harry awoke to the sounds of little kids squealing with excitement downstairs. He climbed out of bed, fumbling for a moment with the hundreds of blankets that Molly and Arthur had on their bed, and pulled on a huge Chudley Cannon's sweatshirt that Ron had given him to borrow. He pulled on socks after that and went downstairs to see who was up.

To his surprise, he was the last one awake. Molly and Arthur were seated on the floor by the Christmas tree sorting presents, Ron and Hermione were sitting in front of the fire playing with Rose while she waited for the presents to be opened, Ginny and Ethan were curled up together on the couch with steaming cups of hot cocoa while George was sitting by their feet, and Bill and Fleur were holding Victoire and Louis as they shared the enormous arm chair.

"He's awake!" Rose squealed, crawling towards Molly and Arthur. "Presents now?"

"Alright, alright," Arthur said with a chuckle, picking up Rose and sitting him on his lap. He handed her a bright pink present with a white bow, and Fleur's smile broadened.

"That's from Uncle Bill and Auntie Fleur," Hermione told Rose softly, coming over to sit with her.

Harry took a seat next to Ron by the fire, who clapped him on the shoulder. "Happy Christmas, mate," he said.

"Happy Christmas," Harry responded with a smile.

Molly sorted out the gifts, and Harry was surprised that he had received so many. He opened up a gift from Ron, which was his own Chudley Cannon's sweater like the one he was wearing, only about two sizes smaller so it could actually fit him. Hermione gave him brand new work robes, which were a very deep red in colour and had gold fasteners. Bryson's gift had been beautiful phoenix feather quill along with his mother's amazing homemade shortbread and a silky black sash for his work robes. George gave him a variety of different candies which, after making sure they weren't fixed from his shop to make him throw up or grow a million pimples, he thanked him for. Molly and Arthur gave him a Weasley jumper, along with everyone else there, and an enormous slab of fudge. He received new dragon hide Quidditch gloves from Bill and Fleur, along with weather-proof goggles. Ethan gave Harry a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, which he wasn't too keen on accepting, and Ginny finally passed him the last present.

"Happy Christmas, Harry," she said as she knelt down to hand him his gift. The wrapping was had checkers of red and gold, and as he tore it open, his heart sped up faster. Staring back at him was the last picture Ginny and Harry had ever had taken together. It was them standing outside of Hogsmead, the snow falling onto their faces and their cheeks burning red with love and the cold weather. They were facing each other, Ginny's arms around Harry's neck and Harry's arms around Ginny's waist, staring down at each other fondly. The snows movements fell in front of them, and there was no doubt that when the picture had been taken, the two were deeply in love.

"Thank you Ginny," Harry said as he looked up at her. Ethan couldn't see the gift, but had a careful eye watching over Harry as he handed Ginny the gift he had given her. She opened it carefully, trying not to rip a piece of the paper, and gasped as the box opened.

"Oh Harry," she exclaimed, lifting the long black dress out of the box. "It's beautiful." She held it up against her body and beamed down at him. "Thank you!" She jumped at him, her arms wrapping around his neck into a hug. He hugged her back tightly, all the while grinning over her shoulder at Ethan.

"Well," Molly said after all the gifts had been opened. "Let's get some pictures in."

Molly had a fantastic idea to take different picture settings. First, the original Weasley family – Molly, Arthur, George, Ron and Ginny – stood together in front of the fireplace, smiling at the same time as they posed. Then, the couple pictures were taken. Hermione and Ron stood with Rose cradled in their arms, staring fondly at one another. It was a beautiful picture, in Harry's opinion. Then Bill and Fleur picked up Victoire and Louis to pose with them, before Molly and Arthur wrapped their arms around each other and kissed one another's cheeks. Ginny and Ethan posed in front of the Christmas tree, tight against one another in embrace.

Then, the original three from school stood together. Harry and Ron stood behind Hermione and made faces as she looked over her shoulder at them sternly, and that was how the picture was taken. It made the three of them laugh, and they shared copies of it to keep for future memories. A group picture with everyone was taken after that, and Molly told them it would be placed on the mantelpiece.

"What a fantastic Christmas," Arthur exclaimed as he sunk into his armchair by the fire.

Harry couldn't agree more as he looked over his shoulder and saw Ethan and Ginny quietly arguing in the corner of the kitchen, Ginny's face contorted with rage. Ethan said something that made Ginny burst into tears and run upstairs. Frowning, Harry excused himself from the room, took one look at Ethan's grinning face, and hurried upstairs after Ginny.


	6. Goodbye

**Author's Note: **A very long update, I'm so sorry! I was finishing off a story that has been getting a lot of good reviews from the fans, and now it's done. Therefore, I'm going to be updating the stories that everyone thought I had forgotten about - such as Rekindling! No worries, the sixth chapter is here and ready for your eager eyes. Review and let me know what your thoughts were.

* * *

**Chapter Six  
****Goodbye**

Harry paused at the top of the stairs and glanced around the first floor. Ginny's room had always been the one that overlooked the orchard, but he was unsure if she still remained inside of it. Taking a leap of fate, Harry grasped the doorknob and turned it to open a crack in the door, just large enough to see through.

"Ginny? Are you in here?" he asked uncertainly.

When the sound of sniffling came from inside of the room, Harry pushed the door open more. Ginny's room had always been particularly small, yet they had somehow managed to remove her single bed and replace it with a large queen sized bed that took up a majority of the room. She was sitting cross-legged on the quilted bedspread of her bed, her hair framing her face and thing streaks of tears lining either side of her cheeks. She glanced up wordlessly as Harry entered and furiously rubbed at her face to remove the tears.

"Ginny, what happened?" Harry asked, a tone of concern in his voice. He hesitated for a moment before he sank into the chair that was shoved in the corner of the room, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his hands in front of him.

"I… Well… It's nothing, Harry," she stuttered. "I don't want to get into it at the moment."

Harry shook his head. "If it was nothing, you wouldn't be crying about it. And I've always been here for you, Ginny. You know that."

Ginny frowned and looked out the window of her room. "Ethan said he was regretting everything; the engagement, and even us meeting in the first place. He told me he's unsure of his real feelings towards me because I seem to be so emotionally and physically attached to you."

Harry winced and tried to make it look like he had hurt himself by kicking his foot against the leg of his chair. It was obvious that Ginny still had feelings towards Ethan, although she had already confessed to Harry that she was still in love with him. A wave of fury and jealousy rose over Harry's body like a tidal wave and he had to bite his lip to hold back any words that would just upset Ginny more. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to make her more upset.

"What were you two talking about exactly?" Harry asked.

"Well… Ethan asked me what I had gotten you for Christmas, and I said it was just a picture… and he asked what the picture was of, and I told him it was of me and you. And then he went on about how close I was with you, how I shouldn't be spending so much time with you. I told him that he shouldn't worry about it, but he didn't believe me. No matter how many times I tried to convince him that nothing was going to happen between you and me, he refused to let it down. So he finally said, 'Maybe we shouldn't be together. Maybe it was a bad idea getting involved with you in the first place.'" Ginny erupted into tears once more.

The entire speech that Ginny had just given Harry confused him more than ever. Harry could have sworn that not long ago at all, Ginny had confessed her feelings to him and even thought of leaving Ethan to be with Harry, or so it had seemed at the time to him. How could she now sit here and cry about the fact that she and Ethan were having problems when she wasn't in love with him at all? Was she?

Completely unsure of how to speak with her at the moment, Harry stood up and excused himself from the room to have a moment to himself. Once he closed the door, he pressed his back against the wall next to the door and sighed. In two days, he would be returning to his home where Tonks and Bryson were both waiting for him - would he be leaving Ginny forever by then? Would she have to find out Ethan's secret on her own, or would someone else reveal it to her? He only had a little less than two days to somehow make Ginny find out about Ethan, and warn her of the danger she could potentially be in.

Harry shook his head and turned to face the opposite side of the first floor, where his bedroom was waiting for him. However, he paused in mid-step when he saw Ethan coming up the stairs. The two stood for a moment in the hallway, staring at one another, before anyone spoke.

"What are you doing?" Ethan asked, raising his leg to place his foot on the top step. Harry's heart fell as he raised his eyes to look up into Ethan's, his height feeling extremely overwhelming at the moment.

"I came to check on a close friend of mine," Harry said. He frowned. "Something you should have been doing the minute she ran upstairs crying."

Ethan bared his teeth threateningly and touched the waistband of his pants, where Harry could clearly see the outline of his wand pressing against the fabric from the inside. "Watch it, Potter," he hissed. "This doesn't concern you, so don't make me do something I'll regret later."

Harry chuckled, feeling much braver, and took a step towards Ethan. "Oh, I don't think you'll regret anything you did to me Ethan. Especially if it involves death."

Ethan's hand paused and he lowered it, his eyes wide as he stared over Harry's face. "What are you talking about?" he murmured.

Harry grinned and crossed his arms over his chest, walking forward until he was standing only a foot away from Ethan. He raised his eyes, staring up at his face, and whispered, "I know your secret."

"I… I don't know what you're talking about," Ethan stuttered, his eyes wide with fear.

"Oh, but you _do_ know what I'm talking about," Harry whispered. "And there is little stopping me from telling her everything about you."

Ethan snorted and shoved past Harry. "She'll never believe you," he hissed over his shoulder.

"What makes you think she won't?" Harry snapped, turning on his heel to face Ethan's retreating back. "What makes you think that she will believe you, someone she barely knows? How much bullshit have you been feeding her about your life?"

"Shut up, Potter…" Ethan warned.

"Does she know you've killed people?" Harry said in a much softer voice, and Ethan stopped walking entirely. He turned slowly with a scared expression spread across his face.

Harry walked forward, his brow narrowed and his voice even lower. "Does she know your real identity, Lorenzo?"

Ethan growled and grabbed the collar of Harry's shirt, raising him off the ground and pressing him against the wall of the hallway. "I'm warning you, Potter," he hissed as his hands sought for Harry's throat. "Another word, and I'll kill you right here and now."

Since Harry's arms were free, he pretended to struggle momentarily while his hand inched down his side and into the waistband of his jeans. He clasped his wand, raised it between their bodies, and murmured with great difficulty, _"Immobulus!"_

Ethan's hands froze and he moved backwards slightly, though his body was rigid. His eyes were dazed as he gazed around the area in front of him, and Harry took the opportunity to rush away from the spot where he had been, past Ethan and down the stairs. He was greeted with a shocked expression from the family, all of who were sitting around the fireplace in the living room still. Harry was panting for breath and clutching his throat for breath, gazing around the room until his eyes landed on Hermione and Ron.

"Can… I… talk… to… you… two?" he panted, walking away from them into the living room to signify that they should follow. When he reached the kitchen in a secluded corner, he turned to his two best friends who were now standing behind him.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione asked with a expression of worry.

"Ethan… Lorenzo… whoever the fuck he is… he threatened to kill me just now upstairs!" Harry said, finally catching his breath.

Ron's eyes were wide. "I knew it! We have to tell Ginny."

Harry shook his head. "He threatened to kill me because I told him I knew his secret."

Hermione frowned and looked from one to the other. "We should tell Ginny… but what if that causes a threat to the entire family?"

"We should contact the Ministry!" Ron exclaimed, lowering his voice as he realized that George and his father had poked their heads around their arm chairs to see what was going on. "I mean, they'll be able to take him away from us and lock him up in Azkaban, won't they? Problem solved."

Hermione frowned. "Don't you think Ginny will be scarred from all of this? It's potentially very dangerous to her life, and ours! We can't just write to the Ministry, tell them we have the murderer they've been searching for, and have them show up and take Ginny's future husband away just like that. We have to do this in a much more organized manner, Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Why did I marry you…?"

"Because you love me, and don't you dare say otherwise!" Hermione snapped, but she smiled shortly after that. Ron smiled as well.

Harry ignored their fake fight and thought Hermione's idea over in his head. "Hermione's right, we shouldn't worry Ginny any more with telling her. But we shouldn't contact the Ministry just yet."

Ron frowned and turned to Harry. "But you're leaving in less than two days, Harry. How will we be able to reveal the truth about Ethan in a day and a half?"

"We can still do this when I go home," Harry suggested. "It's not like I'll never speak with you two again, right?"

Ron nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "I definitely don't feel comfortable being in the same house as this guy, more than ever," he muttered. "My sister deserves much better. You know, someone like… you."

Harry smiled and looked out the window at the flurry of snow that was cascading down onto the lawn of the Burrow. "I wish that was the case," he said solemnly.

"You two were perfect together," Hermione said softly, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

Harry nodded. "I miss her."

The three friends stood in silence for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, until they heard footsteps coming from the staircase. Ethan came down with his hand tightly enclosed over Ginny's, and both of them were smiling. Harry gave Ethan a fleeting look of warning, until he saw that Ginny was much happier than before and it seemed that she had never even been crying only ten minutes before in her room. Curiously, Harry wondered what Ethan had done to change her mind as she spun in a circle to press kisses on Ethan's lips.

"That's strange," he murmured, more so to himself than to Hermione and Ron.

"What is?" Ron asked.

"She almost seems too happy, if that's possible," Harry responded, turning to look at the two. "Why?"

Hermione frowned, deep in thought, before she responded. "Perhaps he has her under the Imperius Curse," she said.

Harry shot a look back at Ethan, who had one hand holding onto Ginny's and the other in his pocket. His wand couldn't be seen, but Harry had a sinking feeling that he was casting the Imperius Curse over Ginny.

"Quick, distract him," Harry muttered as he stepped away from the two friends. Ron and Hermione glanced at once another quickly before Hermione went up to Ethan and swung her arms to hug him.

"Oh, Ethan! Merry Christmas!" she cooed, reaching down to grasp his hands. Ethan looked shocked and stunned as his hands were removed from Ginny's and his pocket. The minute Hermione removed his hands, Ginny stopped twirling in circles and frowned as she looked around the kitchen. She then glanced at Ethan and frowned even wider. Harry was breathing very deeply and rushed forward to grab hold of Ginny's upper arm. He guided her quickly out of the room, ignoring the piercing stares from Hermione and Ethan as he opened the back door and guided them outside.

The snow was falling very swiftly over them, and with the lack of layers they found themselves shivering in the cold. Harry, however, was determined to learn what had just happened.

"Ginny? Are you okay? What did he do to you?" he asked hurriedly, grabbing her shoulders and bringing her face up to look at him. She had a dazed, glassy-eyed expression on her face before she answered.

"I… I don't know what you mean, Harry," she replied with a timid voice. Harry huffed a sigh of frustration, which exposed a small puff of white smoke from his mouth.

"What happened when I left your room, and when Ethan came in?" he asked, exasperated.

"I… Well, Ethan came in, said he was sorry, and then I don't remember… I appeared in the living room," Ginny said, thinking it over while holding herself and shivering.

Harry frowned. Usually, those who were under the Imperius Curse had some recollection of what had happened to them. Had Ethan placed Ginny under a temporary Memory Loss spell along with the Imperius Curse? What was he trying to do exactly?

"You really don't remember anything between Ethan apologizing, and finding yourself standing in the living room?" Harry asked, shaking his head dismally as he rubbed his arms.

"I really don't." Ginny frowned. "Harry, have I done something horrible?"

"No, you haven't," Harry said reassuringly. _"Someone else has," _he added in his brain.

_***_

On the day after the next, Harry was making his way down to the front door of the Burrow with his two suitcases in tow. He had dressed warmly for the journey back, since George had warned him that the heating in the car had broken down last night when he was trying to repair the Cloaking button. Therefore, Harry was sweating immensely in his T-shirt, jumper, jacket, hat, scarf, gloves, jeans and boots while he stood in front of the Weasley clan.

"Oh, Harry," Mrs. Weasley sobbed, rushing forward to swing her arms around his neck into a bear hug. "It was lovely to see you again! Please stay in touch, we'd love to have you down for Easter."

"I'll try my best," Harry said with a smile, hugging Molly back and moving back again. Bill and Mr. Weasley shook Harry's hand and Fleur placed a kiss on either side of Harry's cheeks. The children, who were all shy, merely stood back and smiled up at Harry. However, Hermione burst into wailing tears and launched herself on top of Harry into an enormous hug that could have broken his ribs.

"Stay in touch," Harry murmured into her ear. "Write every day when something else comes up."

Hermione nodded and wordlessly stepped back, blowing her nose and looking over at Ron and George. The brothers were standing by the door, both bundled up in layers of clothing and waiting for Harry to finish his goodbyes with the family. The only people left to say goodbye to were Ginny and Ethan.

Harry turned to face Ginny, whose face was fighting to hide any signs of sadness that she held. Harry worried that she was being held under Ethan's Imperius Curse again, but was relieved when he saw that both of Ethan's hands were placed on Ginny's hips. He waited for a moment, then felt his heart sank as Ginny walked forward rather reluctantly and hugged Harry for only a second.

"Have a safe flight," she said, though her voice was tiny and she was talking to her feet before she stepped back and let Ethan say goodbye. Harry's rage for the man built up once more as their hands met and shook. Ethan was grinning, but Harry knew it was not a friendly smile.

"Safe strip now," he said. "Lovely meeting you, mate."

"Ditto," Harry muttered, dropping Ethan's hand immediately. He grasped the handles of his suitcases and turned to Ron and George, who had opened the front door of the Burrow and begun to walk out. With everyone waving and saying farewell behind him, Harry walked out of the Burrow and down the path to meet the brothers at George's Chevy truck.

"Guy's a right prick, isn't he?" George said once he was sure that the family could not hear them outside. "Never liked the guy."

"No one does," Ron said, lifting Harry's suitcase and chucking them into the back of the truck's cab. "There's something… off about him."

George nodded. "He's a tool, basically." He laughed and climbed into the driver's seat as Harry managed to crawl into the back. "I always thought you two would end up together, Harry."

"Everyone did," Ron and Harry said in unison. Harry frowned and stared out the window to take his last look at the Burrow. The last week had felt like a year, and he didn't want to leave the comfortable setting that Molly Weasley had created for everyone. However, he also didn't want to leave because it may cause a risk to his one true love.

No one spoke for the entire trip back to Harry's house, which was fine by him. He wanted the time to himself to think of what he was going to do about Ethan and Ginny, and how he would reveal his secret to her without completely scarring her. Ron would occasionally glance in the rear-view mirror and give Harry a fleeting look of sorrow before turning his attention back to the clouds in front of them. Harry couldn't help but wonder if Ron felt that their entire plan was worthless, since Ginny was obviously still in love with Ethan despite being in love with him.

Once again, at noon, Harry awoke from a unintentional nap to see the familiar red brick walls of his home underneath them. He blew a sigh of relief, happy to be returning home and back to his career as head Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Now that he knew about Ethan and his real identity, it would be easier to find files on him in the Ministry of Magic's filing system. The idea suddenly flashed into his mind, and he was astonished that he had not thought of it sooner. He was the Head Auror! He could easily put a few Auror's on the task of finding Ethan, and making it seem like an unexpected death to the Weasley family - maybe. It was complicated, and it would involve a lot of precise, careful measures to be made. Harry knew he would have to check into his office early the next day to ensure the task could be done, and he would need to write an owl for Ron and Hermione the next morning.

"We're here, mate," Ron said as the truck came to a soft landing in the driveway of Harry's home. Ron climbed out of the truck's cab and pushed the seat forward to help Harry and his luggage out. Once both of Harry's feet were on the ground and he had his two suitcases and his broomstick on the ground beside him, he turned to face the Weasley brothers.

"It was great seeing you, George," he said, clapping George on the back as they both hugged. Then, Harry turned to Ron and smiled. "I'm glad we're alright now."

"Same here, mate," Ron said with a smile.

"I have something to tell you, but I'll write you in the morning," Harry whispered as George was retreating back to the truck. Ron, being logical for a moment, nodded his head to show he understood and soot back to join his brother.

"We'll see you soon, I hope," Ron said as he climbed into the passenger seat of the truck again. Harry nodded and raised his hand to wave as the Weasley brothers began to lift the truck back into the sky and steer themselves back in the direction of the Burrow. Without anything else to do, Harry turned to his home, picked up his things and walked up the steps with his keys out and ready. He turned the house key in the lock and blew a large sigh of relief as the door swung open to reveal the foyer.

"Home sweet home," he murmured to himself, throwing the suitcases and broomstick aside and kicking the door shut with his foot. Harry peeled the layers of clothing away from his body until he wore only his jeans, the T-shirt and his socks, feeling stones lighter. Without anything else on his agenda, Harry sank into the armchair in front of the fireplace and sighed. He would write to Ron and Hermione later - or tomorrow - and would contact Bryson soon. For now, he needed time to think by himself.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Short chapter, but I wanted to give you guys something at least. Longer ones will be up. Reviews are welcomed!


	7. Mistakes

**Author's Note: **It's been a while, yet again… I'm sorry that I can't give you guys quicker updates, but school and friends and family are consuming a majority of my time. Hope you understand! Chapter's a bit rushed, but it's basically a filler... and I wrote it at 12 in the morning, so forgive me!

* * *

**Chapter Seven  
Mistakes**

Harry had been in the middle of spreading a large dollop of cream cheese onto his toasted bagel when the owl came two days after arriving back home. The large barn owl had been sitting on the other side of the window for two minutes before Harry even realized it was there, and he quickly drew open the windows to let the owl in. A tiny, rolled up piece of parchment was attached to its outstretched claw, and a dreary expression on its flat face.

"Thank you," Harry said, tearing off a piece of his bagel and feeding it to the owl. As the owl nibbled on the bit of toast, Harry slipped off the tie that held the note in place and unrolled it as Tonks wound herself between his legs. Silently, he read the note to himself

_Harry,_

_Your idea sounds absolutely brilliant, but it's risky as well. Ron and I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize your career. However, if you believe that you can get some Auror's on the task, then do so._

_Please send us a note back either right when you get into the office on your first day back, or a few days after to let us know what's going on exactly._

_We love you and support you. We hope everything will work out._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione and Ron_

Rolling the parchment back up, Harry lifted his gaze to peer outside the window, deep in thought. He had been hoping to get into the office yesterday, but the Minister had insisted that Harry take an extra day to himself. Therefore, he would be going in to work today for the first day in a week and two days. Harry knew also that immediately when he arrived in his office, he would be arranging for a meeting with the Auror's to get some men on the job.

Harry stuffed the parchment into the pocket of his robes and shoved the rest of his bagel into his mouth so his hands would be free to grab his bag from the hook by the door. He snatched his coat off of the chair by the door as well and nodded a bye to Tonks before closing and locking the door to his home.

"The quicker I get there, the better," he thought. Closing his eyes and turning on the spot, Harry Apparated himself to the alleyway beside the telephone booth that acted as the entrance to the Ministry of Magic.

Quickly dialling M-A-G-I-C, Harry hurriedly told the voice which level he was proceeding to, and then stepped off when it arrived. His office was directly across from the telephone booth, and he dashed across the corridor that separated them before anyone could notice he had arrived. He needed to arrange for a meeting as soon as possible.

Harry's office was enormous, stretching high above his head and very long in width. His large oak desk was cluttered with parchments, quills and ink bottles, and he had hundreds of newspaper clippings tacked up on the wall behind him of the most dangerous wizards in the United Kingdom. A majority of the clippings had large red X's over their faces to ensure that they had been dealt with, either deceased or sent to Azkaban. The filing cabinets that lined two other walls were stuffed with parchments and fighting to stay locked up, and the two visitor seats across from his desk were stacked with parchments.

"Scourgify," Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the scattered objects around the room. Parchments, ink bottles, newspapers, quills, cages, boxes, books and other magical objects went soaring around the room to their original places. Soon, Harry's desk was cleared and organized, the filing cabinets tightly and neatly closed, and everything was back in place.

"If you weren't such a pig, you wouldn't need to use that spell every morning," a familiar female voice said from behind Harry. He turned to see Leslie Willard standing in the doorway, a fellow Auror at the Ministry. Harry knew that Leslie had always had a small crush on him, since she always took extra time in the morning to prep herself for work. Today, for example, she wore a skin-tight black dress that stopped halfway down her thigh and large black high-heeled boots underneath her crimson robes, and her brown hair hung in loose curls down her body.

"Morning," Harry said absentmindedly. Normally, he would've spent a little extra time speaking with Leslie - he had always flirted with her just a little bit, since she was attractive after all. However, with so much on his mind this morning, Harry chose to forgo that idea.

"How was your Christmas holidays?" Leslie asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Good, yours?" Harry said as he searched through the filing cabinets, his coat still on and his bag still slung over his shoulder.

"Wonderful. Did you get my gift?" Leslie asked hopefully.

Harry had received Leslie's gift - it had been stuffed in his mailbox, something he very rarely used, when he checked the mail the next morning. She had given him a large box of homemade treacle fudge and a Christmas card that revealed her leaning against a window in her home, wearing red lingerie lined with white fur and a Santa Clause hat.

"Yes, thank you," Harry muttered, retrieving a file and throwing it on his desk. He realized Leslie had not yet left, so he lifted his eyes. "Is there anything you need?"

"Oh, well, just wondering how your holidays were," Leslie stuttered. "Are you, uh, busy?"

"A bit." Harry cleared his throat and pointed his wand to his throat, using the same charm that he remembered so clearly from fourth year. "Would all Aurors please report to conference room A4 for an emergency meeting at this time? Thank you." He cleared his throat again and collected a large stack of files from his desk, shuffling past Leslie without a second glance in her way as he made his way to the conference room four doors down from his office.

The conference room was the same size as Harry's office, which says something considering the enormous table can seat up to one hundred people. Only two Aurors were already there; Leslie, who had somehow beaten Harry there, and Colin Creevey. Harry took the seat at the front of the table, closest to Leslie and Colin, as the rest of the Aurors began to file in.

"Are we waiting on anyone else?" Harry asked, peering around the room. There were exactly twenty-five Aurors, including Harry, in the Ministry and he took a quick head count to ensure everyone was there. Satisfied, he began to shuffle through his papers until he found a newspaper clipping, and he held it up for everyone to see.

"Has anyone ever heard of these killings?" Harry asked, swivelling his torso side to side to make sure everyone had taken a look at the article. A hand raised in the table, and Harry peered over to see Leslie's arm raised.

"Care to tell us what you know, Leslie?" he suggested, still holding the article up.

Leslie hesitated, gazed around the room, and cleared her throat. "Well… Three years ago, there were about ten Muggle couples who were found in their lofts… dead. And the Muggle authorities performed numerous autopsies, couldn't find anything wrong with them. And I know that the Minister knew exactly what had caused their deaths; the Avada Kadavara Curse. But the wizard - or witch - who performed the curse was never found, and they knew his name but they couldn't find a single source of him even existing afterwards. They thought he died because it never happened again."

Harry smiled. "Everything you said up to his death is completely true." Hushed voices scattered around the room and Harry lifted a hand to silence the Aurors. He reached into another folder and lifted out a profile sheet and handed it to Colin, who was on his right, and suggested that he pass it around.

"The man's name was Lorenzo Florence. Though it's true that the magical authorities did not find any sign of him for the last three years, I can ensure you all that the man is not dead. How? Because I met him a week ago."

The Aurors all gasped and stared up at Harry in shock. No one spoke for a minute, unable to believe whether or not Harry was telling them the truth.

"Where?" the youngest Auror, eighteen-year-old Alexei Cart asked.

"He is engaged to an old friend of mine. And the reason he has not been found is because he has hidden his identity under a different name," Harry explained.

"What is his fake name?" Leslie asked.

"This is what we are meeting here for today." Harry shuffled through a pile of files and extracted another piece of parchment. His own handwriting was spread across the page.

"I am preparing a plan to catch Lorenzo, though it's very difficult."

An Auror snorted down the table, and Harry glared as he saw his least favourite employee smirking up at him - Destery Hunter. "How is it difficult? We go in and bag the guy!"

Harry shook his head. "His fiancée is a close friend, and very close to my heart. I wish to do this so that very little stress and hurt is inflicted on her. Therefore, we can not leap into the act immediately."

"How do you propose we do this then?" Destery muttered.

"Spying." Harry tapped the parchment in his hand so it levitated in the air, and a quill shot out from his bag and began to scribble words down on the parchment as he spoke. "Destery, Colin and Alexei will be the first ones to patrol. Tonight would be efficient. Please make sure you all having cloaking charms on you, we can not be seen. Then in two nights, Leslie, Marcus, and Sherman will do another patrol. Jesla, Harmon and Cove will patrol the night two days after that."

"What about the rest of us?" an Auror called out from the table.

"The rest of you continue on your own cases," Harry said with an apologetic smile. "I only need ten people for the job, including myself. I promise that the rest of you will be given the next special task if it should arise."

The Aurors who had not been assigned to anything mumbled and moaned, raising themselves from their seats as they began to file out of the conference room. The nine others sat and waited with Harry as he continued on.

"Is anyone familiar with the whereabouts of the Burrow?" Harry asked. Once again, Leslie was the only person to raise her hand.

"I can show everyone where it is tonight, given the cloaking charms are on," Leslie suggested, eager to help Harry.

"Good idea. Once everyone knows, I only want the three assigned to the spying tonight to stay behind and watch over the Burrow. Ensure you bring your broomsticks and you may want to purchase Extendable Ears if you do not have them, because extra help will be needed. Also bring some sort of recording device, whether it be your wands or notebooks. Jot down anything you hear that may be suspicious and please see if you can locate the speaker based on their appearance."

The Aurors nodded and began to raise to their feet, hesitant to see if Harry was done. When he nodded that he was, they all left the room. Harry took the time to himself to sit at the conference table and write Hermione a reply to her letter.

_Hermione,_

_I just had a conference with the Aurors. I've set up a plan for them, where I'm going to have three Aurors monitoring the Burrow every night. If you hear any suspicious noise outside, it's only them. Make sure that they aren't found at all, if you can. Anything that seems suspicious to you should also be brought back to me._

_Everything will be fine._

_Harry  
_

Rolling up the parchment, Harry made his way back towards his office, where he would ensure the note was sent via owls. He gathered up all his things and shoved them back into his bag, feeling as though a large burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Perhaps I'll be able to breathe again," he murmured to himself.

* * *

That night, Harry once again found himself trudging through the marshy field that lead him to Bronxville, his fur-rimmed bomber jacket the only thing separating him from the windy winter conditions. A sense of déjà vu fell over him again as he realized that only a week and a half ago, he had been doing this very same act for the very same reason; going to meet up with Bryson for a drink. Hopefully, Harry thought, he wouldn't stand him up this time.

Matilda's Den was packed tight and it didn't surprise Harry in the least; it was New Year's Eve. There was a large crystal ball standing on a table in the middle of the room, with a handful of people crowded around it and watching it - Big Ben was behind the misty fog inside of the crystal ball. The rest of the witches and wizards in the bar were crowded around various sections, holding bottles of Firewhisky and Butterbeer with party hats on their heads. In the crowd of them all, Harry saw Bryson standing at the back of the room with a bright smile and his arm around a girl - his girlfriend, Cherise.

"Happy New Year!" Bryson said happily, clapping Harry on the back as he joined them. "Glad you could meet up with us."

"Anytime." Harry smiled at Bryson, then smiled at Cherise. She was extremely pretty with dark hair and green eyes, and would most likely break Bryson's heart later on. She was a nice enough girl, but Harry knew that his newest best friend had a hard time with girlfriends. He normally found the prettiest one, dated them for a couple of months and ended up having his heart broken because the girls usually were looking for "something else"; in other words, they thought they could do better.

"Cherise brought her friend with her… she thought you two would hit it off," Bryson said, hiccupping. He was obviously already drunk, because Bryson knew perfectly well that Harry would be trying to get back together with Ginny the minute she learned about "Ethan's" secret. However, Harry turned to see who Cherise had brought, and jumped at the sight of the familiar face; Leslie Willard, dressed in the tightest and shortest dress he had ever seen.

"Leslie," Harry croaked.

"H-Harry," Leslie stuttered, her eyes wide in surprise as she turned to face her work crush.

Cherise frowned. "You two know each other?" she said.

"We work together," the two said in unison, half smiling. Harry knew that this was turning out to be an incredibly bad idea already, considering he had been planning on getting drunk tonight for the first time in two years. Things would definitely change now, since he didn't want to do anything he'd regret later on.

Thought it wasn't as if Leslie was non-attractive or annoying; she was absolutely breathtaking and incredibly smart, and Harry felt absolutely touched that she was attracted to him. Perhaps if Ginny wasn't in the picture, and perhaps if they didn't work together, something could build with the two of them.

"Bought you a Firewhisky, Harry," Bryson hiccupped, grabbing a sealed bottle of Firewhisky from the bar and handing it to him. Harry smile awkwardly and clinked his bottle against Bryson, opening it and taking a small sip.

"Crowded tonight," Leslie said, obviously trying to make small talk with Harry as Bryson and Cherise began to talk to themselves in private.

"That's to be expected, really," Harry said, raising his voice so she could hear him over the other people in the bar. "Matilda's Den is always crowded on special occasions."

"This is my first time," Leslie shouted back, taking a swig of her Butterbeer. "Call me a virgin."

Harry's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Leslie blushed as she realized what she had said. "I meant… you know… a Matilda's Den virgin… I've had sex… I, well, you know…"

Harry laughed. "It's okay, I understand."

One hour and nine Firewhisky's later, Harry was howling along with the rest of the crowd when the countdown had begun. Everyone had crowded around the crystal ball in the middle of the room and watched as numbers flashed on the screen, counting down from ten and the image of the live Big Ben taping in the background.

"TEN… NINE… EIGHT… SEVEN… SIX… FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO… ONE… HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Harry screamed with the others. Loud cheers rose in the crowd and couples turned to kiss their partners and dates. Without even thinking, a drunk Harry joined in and grabbed Leslie around the waist to plant an enormous, deep kiss on her lips. Leslie, also drunk, enthusiastically kissed him back.

"Happy New Year!" Harry shouted again, pulling away with a lopsided grin on his face.

"Let's get out of here," Leslie shouted back, swaying on the spot and giggling from the alcohol she had consumed.

"Okay!" Harry grabbed Leslie's hand and completely ignored Bryson and Cherise as he made a beeline for the front door of Matilda's Den. His head was swimming with blurry images and thoughts, and he found himself outside within seconds. Soon, he had Apparated both of them to the front of his house, smiling and swaying on the doorstep as the process had been a little difficult for him in his drunk state.

"Harry Potter, I can finally have you," Leslie giggled, throwing her arms around Harry's neck and pushing them inside as she pressed her lips against his.

"Sure!" Harry hiccupped, falling back into his place and kicking the door closed once they were inside. Clumsily, the two of them began to peel off their clothes as they stumbled backwards up the stairs towards Harry's bedroom. Harry had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but he knew that he felt really good at the moment and that he was definitely into Leslie right now.

Harry's mind was similar to thick fog as he walked backwards upstairs, as if the insides of the crystal ball that had stood in the middle of the pub were now filling his brain. He knew something about what they were about to do was bad, although he couldn't figure out what. He knew he still cared about Ginny, but images of a naked Leslie filled his imagination and he began to walk a little quicker. Leslie's lips were everywhere on him - his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his nose - and he had a hard time finding a safe place to put his hands because she kept swatting them away.

Once upstairs, Leslie managed to find Harry's room and guided him in there, while he walked backwards still. The fireplace immediately turned on and the dim flicker of the flames cast shadows along the walls as Leslie tore off her sweater and threw it over her shoulder. A half-naked Harry, who was down to his jeans and boxers by now, stood at the end of the bed while Leslie stood in front of him, wearing only the lingerie she had worn that night. Harry took a moment to himself, mouth hanging open and eyes glassy as he stare over Leslie's body.

"Wow," he chuckled.

"Do me," she giggled, walking forward. Harry grinned dreamily as Leslie pushed him back onto the bed and crawled over him, her legs on either sides of his waist and her lips hungrily finding his. Their hands desperately grasped at the remaining articles of clothing they wore, and they flung them off clumsily and with some difficulty.

"Do you have a… thingymajigger?" Leslie asked, her breathing ragged and her eyes glazed over. Harry wore the exact same expression with his mouth hanging open as he stared up at her.

"A what?"

"You know… what's it called… a condom? Things Muggles use?"

"OH!" Harry leapt from the bed and dove sideways to reach into his bedside table, where a pack of condoms lay inside. He took one out, tore it open with his teeth, and handed it to Leslie.

"I'll do it!" she exclaimed, although she already had it in her hand when she said it. She manoeuvred herself down so she could wrap the condom around Harry's length, making sure it was on tight before she was on top of him once more.

"Let'er rip!" she giggled. Harry snorted with laughter as he positioned himself underneath Leslie and buried his length deep inside her.

* * *

A pounding ache and the burning of bile in his throat was how Harry awoke the next morning. He groaned in agony and clutched at his head, the throbbing pain growing more and more as his eyes began to open to reveal the bright sunlight from outside. The fireplace had burnt out only a few minutes before, since a soft tumble of smoke circled away from the wood inside it, and Tonks was curled up on the floor in front of it.

Sitting up and ignoring the searing pain that grew worse in his brain from doing so, Harry groped his bedside table for his glasses. He found them and lifted them to his face to slide them on, blinking and adjusting his eyes to the room. He was sitting in his bedroom, of course, but had no recollection of how he got there in the first place. And he was completely naked, which was strange; usually he wore at least pyjama bottoms to bed, never nothing. Suddenly, Harry realized that the other half of his bed seemed to have a weight that caused it to sink in.

Turning his head, Harry choked back a scream of shock as he saw the silhouette of a female body underneath the covers beside him, her back to him. She had soft brown curls that tumbled down her bare back and shoulders, and her side was rising and lowering with her slow breaths.

"What the fuck," Harry muttered, blinking again to make sure what he seeing was not a hallucination. At his words, the female rolled over in his bed to reveal her identity.

"Leslie?!" Harry exclaimed, pulling his blankets up over his body.

"Harry!" Leslie seemed equally shocked and jumped up, covering her own body with the blankets. The two stared at one another for a moment, completely shocked and confused, before it finally hit them.

"We had sex," they said in unison. Harry swallowed.

"This is bad," he muttered, his head falling into his heads. Not only had he had sex and not remembered a thing about it - while he was in love with someone else, as well - but he had had sex with a co-worker. This would not be good for his career.

"I-I don't remember anything," Leslie said, her eyes watering. "Are you sure we had sex?"

Harry wordlessly pointed across the room, where a single used condom lay beside their bundle of clothes. Leslie frowned and pulled the sheets tight around her body.

"We drank a lot, didn't we? I remember that. I remember you had… almost ten Firewhiskies, I think… and I had a lot of Butterbeer… twelve, I think. And I don't remember anything after that," she said, her forehead rested in the palm of her hand.

Harry sighed and raised his head. "I don't think anyone should know about this."

Leslie snorted. "Harry, I wouldn't tell a soul. We both know how bad this is four our career reputations. Especially you. I have no intention of getting you removed from the Head Auror office."

Harry nodded. He knew Leslie was smarter than that and was extremely grateful, if he had to be grateful about anything, that he had had sex with her rather than a ditzy intern or assistant for the Minister. God knows that they would automatically turn him in.

"Do you remember… anything?" Leslie asked shyly, biting her lip and looking over at Harry.

"Good question," he said. Harry took a moment to rack his brain for any slight idea of memory. He knew that he had Apparated at some point last night, and he remembered being asked to do her. And he did it. But other than that, the night was a blur.

"Not much," he responded.

Leslie frowned. "Well, let's keep it that way." She stood up and brought the top sheets with her, leaving Harry with the bottom ones. "I should I should get going."

Harry watched as she grabbed her clothes and walked into his bathroom. She emerged five minutes later fully changed with a sorrow look on her face.

"I'll see you at work," she said, and she left.


End file.
